They're my nephews
"Ow!" Conrad muttered softly as he leaned against the stone wall. If Stoffel saw him like this, no doubt he would not pass the chance to humiliate him. "What do you want Von Liefel?" he heard Stoffel asked as he passed by the library. Speak of the devil.
Conrad held back a groan. The day just could not get any better. Of all the nobles Gwendal had to include in the afternoon's meeting, he had to have his childhood bully. While Von Liefel was never as good as Conrart within swordsmanship, said bully – Conrad knew from experience – would not pass up the chance to humiliate him, injured before the other nobles.
"You let Lords Von Voltaire and Von Bielefeld influence the King," the noble sneered as Conrad peeked through the doors, "you yourself called that filthy Human a half-breed!"
"I can't do anything about His Majesty's choice of companions neither do I agree with them," Stoffel rebutted calmly, his violet eyes flashing, "The incident of Wolfram as his fiancé was purely accidental. I probably do the same thing if I came from His Majesty's world and someone insulted my sister in such a manner. As for Gwendal, he is the only one who can keep His Majesty from going astray. We would be at war with Suberia if Gwendal had not stopped His Majesty from rampaging and using the sand monster to kill those idiotic Human guards." Conrad could not believe what he heard. It had to be a dream. Stoffel was defending Gwendal and Wolfram?
"As for the traitorous half-breed?" Von Liefel sneered, "You have yet to say anything of that filthy Human." Conrad's heart sank. Stoffel had to be the last person in the world to rebut his lineage and his time in Dai Shimarron. "While that is true," Stoffel stated, "he is the Spitzberg's half-breed," Conrad's head shot up at the comment, "and he has proven himself to be loyal to Shin Makoku
"You honestly think this pansy of a Maoh will bring greatness to us with them by his side?" Von Liefel asked sneeringly. "All the more reason Shinou chose them to be Cecilia's sons," Stoffel countered, "they're my nephews."
Silence hung in the air. "Now get out of my sight."
Von Liefel stomped out of the library and threw the door open nearly hitting Conrad who had just stepped away in time. The noble then stalked the opposite direction Conrad was heading to much to the captain's relief. Conrad limped towards Gisela's office again once he knew the space was clear. A voice stopped him in his tracks.
"How long have you been there?"
Conrad looked to find Stoffel looking indifferently at him.
"Just got back from a mission," said Conrad trying to keep his voice leveled. Violet eyes regarded him in a pompous manner before glancing down at the Commander's offending foot. "There are people who will be worried if you stress too much on that ankle," Stoffel sneered, "I hate to think of what Gwendal would say."
"Yes sir."
Stoffel looked at his middle nephew. It's not like Conrart to call him 'sir'. "What are you still doing here brat?" he shot then, "Have Lady Von Khrist look at that ankle." Conrad gave a short nod before limping towards Gisela's office. Since when had Stoffel called him 'brat'?
"No one helped you?" the Healer said incredulously, trying to be as gentle as she could. Walking all the way to her office did a number on Conrart.
"Ow!" Conrad yelped, "I didn't think I need any."
Gisela shook her green head muttering something like "Stubborn princes," and concentrated on his ankle. "Go easy on this ankle for two weeks," she said as she busied with the herbs, "seep these herbs with hot water three times a day to drink, be sure you have eaten and come again in four days. I'll let Lord Von Voltaire know you will be off from active duty until then." Five minutes later, she handed him the herbs and a walking stick to help him walk more easily.
"I would suggest more comfortable clothes as well," the Healer murmured.
Later that afternoon, Conrad sat in the library studying and looked out the window to find Stoffel gazing at his mother's flowers.
He remembered the conversation he had overheard earlier.
"While it's true that I have said that, but he is the Spitzberg'shalf-breed."
"They're my nephews."
Conrad began to wonder whether Stoffel's jealousy or meanness all those years ago was just a façade. The words he heard from the library to his childhood bully were said (dare he think it) protectively. When Stoffel came out of the library, he looked like he wanted to punch someone. Brown eyes softened slightly, vague memories running through his mind.
How he fell asleep beside Gwendal who was sick one night and woke up late next morning to find a warm blanket that covered him and a small glass of flowers on the bedside table. Stoffel was discovered to have grass stains on his sleeve cuffs later.
How Conrad came home one afternoon, finding his baby brother bandaged up like a mummy and Stoffel smelling strongly of disinfectant.
How he fell on his knee one afternoon and Stoffel told him sternly that only babies cry. Conrad later found sweets in his pockets that were only found in the Spitzberg estate.
Conrad shook his head at his own stupidity.
Maybe Stoffel never really hated any of us…