(1180)
Day 10 of the Harpstring Moon. Sunny.
That brat has "Lady Tiana von Riegan" written all over his face,
nevermind what the gossips say about Lord Godfrey's bastard.
What did I ever do to deserve this?
I rather wish the boys and the Kid were around to commiserate.
But knowing my luck, she'd actually get on with the brat.
1183
Verdant Rain Moon
Oswald had taught Claude much about the Alliance as he prepared him to lead the roundtable. How to cut a deal that would actually get him what he wanted. How to read each of the Houses. How patient you should be; how long was too long and time to cut your losses. How, to the very shrewd, a disaster was only an opportunity in dramatic clothing.
Since his heritage had been announced to all and sundry, and Hilda, in the last battle with Solon, Claude had thrown off all subterfuge regarding his origins (well, maybe not all. Most. A great deal. Keeping his Father's exact title to himself wasn't that much to leave unmentioned, in the grand scheme of things, right?) and with that came acknowledging that he had Nader the Undefeated, Terror of the Locket, under his command. He could ensure Leicester's safety, he had influence enough across the border to see that Almyra was not an active threat. It had been a gamble, to show that much of his hand, to even hint that he held some sway on both sides, it made him even more of a target; he'd be wary of someone with that much influence. But it would have been worse at that juncture to have that card and not play it. With his Grandfather's backing and experienced hand on the presentation, they'd started on their plan to open trade with Almyra.
It had been three years since then, since the Garreg Mach Accords had been signed, and the nations of Fódlan were working together with only a little friction. All he had to do was open the Locket, and yet despite all the patience he counselled himself, he was beginning to think that Gloucester would oppose trading with Almyra unless Claude would physically rearrange the land to allow the Count to control the border.
But if goods from Brigid were coming in over Myrddin… Gloucester would have the first cut. The Locket and Edmund's Port were as likely to be the first stop for anything coming from Almyra as Derdriu was. If he could strike any kind of deal with Petra on behalf of the Alliance, then perhaps he could convince the Count the balance would be in his favour…
This could work.
It was better than waiting for Lorenz to inherit at any rate.
He was so close.
It wasn't enough just to know his dream would happen; he wanted to see it himself. And at his side in that future-
He sighed.
It had been one thing for Claude, Academy Student, to lie to himself. It was past time for Claude, Sovereign Duke, to face the truth and build the future he wanted to see- all of it.
His feelings for Byleth were no mere crush.
~o~*~o~
Convincing the roundtable that they should take part in the mission to Brigid had been easy. Not only could they all see the potential economic benefits, but the request had come through the Coalition -which was to say it was also sanctioned by the Church, the ever-pious Gloucester couldn't protest it even if he had wanted to. By the second day of meetings they'd even agreed the party to travel, and if Claude was suspicious of whatever Leonie had said to Hilda that got her to volunteer, at least the rest of the table agreed the two of them would be enough noble representation, and didn't try to include any other agents.
The final day of the conference was left free to resolve, or progress, or go in the same circles around, all their other business, and it was some of Claude's finest work yet to keep the conversations going without coming back to his plans for his absence. They were expecting Daphnel, he knew. They let him dance around saying it because it was such a foregone conclusion.
But there were only five people in the world who knew exactly what Judith was doing lately, and he wasn't about to drop House Riegan on top of her as well.
Claude stood from his seat, but just before he closed the meeting he looked round the table "Oh, yes, while I'm away I nominate Lorenz Hellman Gloucester to be my voice at the council. The roundtable is concluded, good day."
He swept from the room as the chatter and objections picked up. Easily able to picture how Count Gloucester's smug grin would drop into a scowl as he tried to fathom what trap Claude had laid before him.
Because he most assuredly had.
~o~*~o~
"This had better be worth it." Hilda complained to Leonie from where she leaned on a marble pillar supporting a gazebo in Riegan's formal gardens. They were watching the other assembled nobles and attendants circle around, schmoozing and making deals while they were all gathered in the same place; usually you could rely on one or two to make off as soon as the roundtable ended, but an opportunity like this didn't come up often and they were all making the most of it. "My Brother is trying to press Freikugel on me now. Our Relic! I show just the slightest desire to go somewhere and suddenly I'm "representing our house", "an ambassador for Fódlan", says there's "not much use for it at the border lately" and maybe that's true, but have you seen it? Not my style at all."
"I think you could make it work for you." Leonie answered easily, folding her arms and leaning back against an opposing pillar. She, along with half the people in the garden, had been eyeing the balcony above to see if she could make out who'd been granted a private audience with Claude, but she was happy enough to give up the attempt. They'd only see what Claude wanted them to, and chances were it was only the trusted messengers he'd be sending off for final preparations. "And anything has to be better than another year with the King of Denial up there, right?"
"Well, yes." Hilda agreed "You'd think someone so clever wouldn't be half so dense."
Leonie snorted "Yep, that makes a pair of them."
~o~*~o~
The last of his messengers saluted and made off with her orders, leaving Claude alone on the balcony for a brief moment to gather himself. All of his trusted messengers were from the Immortal Corps; hand-picked as the best wyvern riders in the Alliance, though that had more to to with Claude sneaking them into Leicester in the first place. Officially, on paper, (and as far as anyone from Almyra was concerned) the Immortal Corps were under Nader's command. For the daily practicalities of the running of a nation, they were under Claude's command.
In actuality, they were less under Claude's command than he was under their judgement. He had not earned his wings yet. They followed his orders, because Nader had instructed that they do, but he hadn't flown with them long enough to be considered their leader, let alone anything so meaningful as their Barbarossa. He could out-shoot any of them on foot or on horse, and even awing he was still level with the best, but he simply didn't have the reactions and instincts long practice gave to wyvren and rider. He needed to be better.
But when to find the time to do so?
Perhaps in Brigid he'd- He halted as he almost walked into someone.
Ah. Yes, Lorenz.
Lorenz glowered at him and used his superior height to crowd Claude back the way he'd come, out to the secluded balcony again. "What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" Lorenz hissed.
Claude put on his most winning smile "Why, Lorenz, whatever do you mean? I thought it was pretty clear; I'm giving you Riegan's seat at the table while-"
"Yes, I understand that." Lorenz snapped "Why!?"
Claude's smile slipped into something more genuine "Lorenz, how long have you been trying to convince your father to send aid to Ferdinand?"
"About a year…" Lorenz answered slowly.
"And any time I, or Count Ordelia present the notion-"
"My Father shoots it down, yes, I am aware. But giving me your seat at the table will not sway his mind."
"Maybe, maybe not, but if the others see that your opinion does not match his, then perhaps you can sway their votes. And besides all that; who else would I trust?"
"Lady Daphnel. Any of House Riegan's other retainers. I do not have your resources-"
"You can't expect me to believe that Gloucester doesn't have informants in every house-"
"And with this move you've cut me off from-"
"Lorenz, Lorenz," Claude interrupted, and directed them towards the balcony rail "First of all, I wouldn't leave you unattended, Nader will be your hand as he is mine. Secondly you are more than capable of running the table without assistance, thirdly, what do you see below?"
Lorenz frowned but cast his eyes over the garden where the majority of the lesser nobles were still milling around, discussing and debating. One stood out, prominently switching from group to group. "Acheron." Lorenz answered darkly "Up to his usual tricks."
"Exactly." Claude agreed with a grin. "Who needs informants when you can just watch the Weathervane do the work? See how he's shunning Lord Livius? I suppose that the Victor's have stopped their caravans passing through his lands and he isn't able to force the deal he was angling for last moon. Ignatz hasn't mentioned anything about it to me, and yet, Acheron is already gauging the wind for us."
"That's all well and good for those who can simply watch the Weathervane without living close enough to listen to his constant squeaking. Still… I suppose he may have his uses."
Claude clapped the taller man on his shoulder "Just remember to use your opponents strengths, as well as their weaknesses, to your advantage and you'll do fine. Besides, I'll only be gone a few months. Four at the outmost; how difficult could it be to deal with some corsairs and open up negotiations between Brigid and Fódlan?"
Lorenz raised an elegant eyebrow "That smacks of tempting fate."
Claude only laughed.
~o~*~o~
He hesitated in the armoury of all places. Failnaught glowed in his hand as he considered it; it was a formidable weapon, it had taken him a good three months to adjust to the draw weight, but the range and the power behind it were like nothing he'd shot before. Even so, while they had been called to fight this was supposed to be mostly a diplomatic mission.
In all honesty his fascination with Relics had dimmed somewhat when Rhea explained that the Agarthans had made them. Bone had been used as a material since time out of mind, that gave him no pause, but he couldn't imagine that these had been treated… respectfully during the process. Plus it seemed that every day the Mage's Enclave came up with a new theory on how using Crest Stones could go horribly wrong. There was still so much more to understand about them -and he would, eventually, but he'd also put aside the childish notion that literally cutting a mountain in half with a magic sword would solve all of his problems.
The bow was a symbol of his status however. And it wasn't as if anyone else could make use of it if he left it behind. It also made an excellent focus for a story, something Nader and the Immortals could write home about; "Failnaught and the pirates from beyond the setting sun" or something like that. Anything to start laying the groundwork for his vision across the border.
That decided it, Failnaught would come with him.