Grancel Castle
Two weeks after the Liber Ark incident.
"Sorry for being late, Your Highness. I kinda underestimated how long it'd take me to navigate the castle," Kevin Graham apologized sheepishly as he emerged onto the balcony, where Princess Klaudia was already waiting with warm tea and pastries. "Anyway, you didn't put up that much of a resistance to my proposal. Why is that?"
"There is so much I've learned and experienced in that other world, and via the hardest and most brutal method possible. There is still a lot that I need help processing," Klaudia replied as she poured the priest some tea. "The nightmares haven't subsided yet either, and I want to make sure I will not be held back by my own mind should…should the inevitable come."
Kevin nodded solemnly at the implications behind the princess's words. Queen Alicia wasn't getting any younger, and it would do Liberl no good to be ruled by someone who woke up screaming every night about ratmen or devils.
"Now, the last time you met, you mentioned that you were captured and tortured by an 'Empire' and accused of being an abomination in the eyes of a god named Sigmar," Kevin consulted his notebook. "Yet when you came back to us you seemed to be working for said empire. What changed?"
"Emperor Karl Franz," Klaudia said firmly, her tone carrying hints of reverence for the unfamiliar monarch's name. "He was the man who truly helped me better understand their world. You see, our world – despite its ills – is a paradise compared to theirs…"
?
As soon as she heard the cell door open, Klaudia jolted awake and began to scurry backwards in blind panic. It was a natural reaction to – Days? Weeks? She no longer knew… - of ruthless interrogation and indoctrination by these strange Imperial agents. Her initial confusion and anger had quickly given way to despair. Despair from the possibility that these agents may have been telling the truth – that she was no longer in Liberl or even her own plane of existence. That the destiny she had taken the bold step to accept as well as her beloved friends and family had been forever ripped from her grasp.
Grandmother…Julia…Sieg…
Estelle…
Two knights restrained her arms, even though she had long given up struggling, and a third man – a so-called 'Witch Hunter' – roughly pulled a burlap sack over her head. Her submission did not earn her any preferential treatment, and the knights handled her like they would an unruly horse.
The intricate marble floor echoed with the clanging of boots, sabatons, and clogs as Klaudia half-walked and was half-dragged along the winding hallways. After what felt like an eternity of walking and several sets of creaking doors, Klaudia felt the chilly night air through her prisoner's rags before she was roughly shoved inside some kind of carriage which immediately sped off. After the last time she was in pushed inside one, she knew there was no point in trying to make conversation, so she slept.
And woke up in a bed.
Not the barely padded wooden contraption she was consigned to for the past several weeks. Not even a simple cozy bed like the one in Estelle's home.
An ornate bed draped in the smoothest linen, cushioned with the most comforting mattress, and actual curtains held up by poles just like back at Grancel Castle. One that had clearly specifically designed for royalty and dignitaries. Klaudia also felt refreshed and clean, almost as if someone had bathed her in her sleep.
Klaudia yawned and stretched. It was the most she had slept ever since the Orbal Shutdown Incident. Those Aidios-damned 'Witch Hunters' did a disturbingly good job and making sure she was as sleep-deprived as possible during their interrogations. Things had barely improved when those menacing bald priests had taken over with their ham-fisted lectures. Yet now, she finally felt fully rested and refreshed. She looked down and saw that somebody had replaced her prisoner's rags with a comfortable nightgown, and a pair of slippers lay at the edge of the bed – ready for her to step into.
This can't be right. This is too good to be true. Kloe thought as she stepped onto the soft carpet and felt the gentle fabric with her bare feet. As she stepped into the provided slippers, she looked around and gasped in shock when she saw her old courtly attire neatly folded and resting upon the top of a dresser, accompanied by her boots and rapier. She hurried over to examine them and feel them with her bare hands. Klaudia fought the urge to weep in joy when she felt the familiar clothing and weapon.
Aidios, is this real? Can I finally go home?
Her train of thought was interrupted by a knocking on the door. She hurried to open it – actually opening it as opposed to helplessly pounding against a locked door – and was greeted with a sight she thought she'd never see again. It was an honest-to-Aidios maid. A maid who bowed in her presence and carried sweets and a jug of some drink!
"Pardon the interruption, Your Highness," the use of her royal title and the sudden hospitality left Klaudia dizzy in shock and confusion. "His…Highness has invited you to dine with him this evening. I have been sent to help clothe you and prepare you for the event."
Her hesitation when referring to this apparent other royal's title had not gone unnoticed by the princess. Before she could pry further, the maid showed herself inside and set down her tray on the mirrored vanity table. Then she began to help Klaudia change.
"Who is this prince?" Klaudia asked as the maid slipped the gown from her shoulders. She sucked in a deep breath from the cold air on her skin. "And why does he want to see me now of all times?"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the Prince of Altdorf would like to introduce himself rather than have a proxy do it for him," the maid replied as she slipped the silk shirt over Klaudia. "What I can say is that he has judged you worthy in Holy Sigmar's eyes."
Sigmar. The name of the foreign god sent shudders up Klaudia's spine. This god shared the same name as an important figure in the Septian Church, yet that was where the similarities ended. While the Erebonia-based cleric had a reputation for kindness and compassion, this Sigmar seemed to be a cruel and vindictive being if the Witch Hunters' behaviour were anything to go by.
"Sigmar damn you! Where are the other cultists?"
"Our archives have no record of this goddess of yours. That tells me you are lying!"
"Do you take me for a fool, mutant scum? Slaanesh's mark is clearly upon you!"
Klaudia winced as memories of backhand slaps and hair-pulling flooded her mind. She couldn't help but feel both dizzy and angry from those memories. For some reason, the insults regarding Aidios and the colour of her hair hurt the most. She was just a young princess who had barely begun her life. She did not deserve to be treated like some D⸫G cultist!
"Tell me, is this how your empire treats foreign royals who believe in a different god?" Klaudia asked bitterly as she put on her boots while the maid slipped on her jacket. The tunic and shirt felt larger than what she had remembered. Aidios…I must be emaciated.
"It is inevitable, Your Highness," the maid answered patiently as she help tighten Klaudia's sword belt. "Many of us including His Highness pray it could be different, but it must be so when dealing with unknown gods. Once again, he can explain it much better than I can."
Klaudia walked up to the standing mirror, and her suspicions about her figure was confirmed. Her cheeks were far hollower than what she was used to, and the tunic looked far too baggy for her liking. Those 'Witch Hunters' had gone to great lengths to make her imprisonment as miserable as possible. Sleep deprivation, starvation, beatings, endless interrogations. The only thing that her tormentors had not resorted to was the unimaginable deed that Klaudia prayed she would never experience. As she continued to look herself over, she noticed that her quartz, Orbment, and holster were missing.
"Excuse me, but something is not right," Klaudia explained. "I'm missing a device and its holster."
"I'm terribly sorry, Your Highness, while I am not privy to details, I do know that those artifacts were delivered to a different city," the maid replied. "I do not anticipate you will receive them back any time soon."
Before Klaudia could ask any more questions, the maid stood up and excused herself because she had other duties to attend to. Klaudia tried to follow the maid out the door only to be roughly pushed back inside by two knights. They are called…Reiksguard, right? It matters not, I am still prisoner here..
Klaudia flopped onto her new bed and stuffed her face into a pillow. She grit her teeth as she fought the urge to cry. Cry at the disaster that had fallen upon fair Liberl, cry at how she had been so cruelly ripped away from home and friends by that damned Weissmann, and cry at all the injustice that she had suffered so far ever since her arrival at that strange manor.
Aidios…please…comfort me. Show me a sign that my worst fears are not true. That I can return home soon enough. ANYTHING!
Yet no response came from the Goddess, but neither did tears flow from her eyes. She would not give these Imperials the satisfaction of seeing her cry like a little girl again.
After some time, Klaudia got back up and approached the tray with curiosity. Having been starved by her captor's for so long, she could not but feel intense hunger pangs upon seeing the intricately made pastries in front of her. A part of her screamed that something was wrong, that they were actually poison meant to kill her after they'd finally convince her to lower her guard.
Still, she relented. Being reduced to the bare minimum of bread and water - and only in amounts that would allow her to live – overpowered any semblance of discipline and will. Klaudia wet joyful tears as she gorged upon the pastries and took liberal gulps from the jug. She sputtered at first when she tasted beer instead of water, yet something about the brew made her crave more. After polishing off the pastries, Klaudia drank the beer dry and blissfully flopped upon the bed, with sleeping overtaking her soon after.
She was rudely awakened by the same maid returning, escorted by the same Reiksguard knights that guarded her bedroom door.
"His Highness will be pleased that you seem to have enjoyed your afternoon morsels," the maid said as the foot knights hauled Klaudia to her feet – far gentler than the previous times it had happened to her. "Dwarf beer truly is miraculous, is it not?"
Klaudia wasn't given the time to answer the rhetorical question or inquire about these 'Dwarfs' before the maid descended upon her with the same fuss and care shown by the ones back home. The Imperial maid smoothed out any wrinkles in her outfit before going over her face with a powder brush of some sort.
"There, now you are ready," the maid said with a hint of satisfaction as the Reiksguard prompted Klaudia to stand up. The way they ushered her out of the bedroom and down the hallways felt less like she was a prisoner and more like she was a confused guest at best, and a wayward pet at worst.
This is too good be true. What is even happening?
Unlike all the previous times she had been escorted down some Imperial hallway, Klaudia had not been blindfolded and was free to look around. Occasionally, the Reiksguard were even courteous enough to stop and ask her questions. The maid did all the talking, and all Klaudia managed to find out was a list of names of long-dead nobles as well as praises to this god Sigmar.
After several turns down winding ornate halls, they arrived at a lavishly decorated door inlaid with gold plated statues and griffons. The maid excused herself before heading inside, opening it soon after and gesturing for Klaudia to come inside. The Reiksguard heeded before ushering the princess inside and closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with the maid and a figure at the far end of a dining table. A figure that emitted an imposing aura despite being firmly seated. The large hammer resting just within the person's reach certainly did not assure Klaudia.
"Introducing Her Highness Princess Klaudia von Auslese of the Kingdom of Liberl," the maid announced as she bowed.
"Thank you," the figure said with a deep, booming, and clearly male voice that radiated confidence and authority. "You may resume your duties."
"By your grace," the maid curtseyed before she also left, leaving Klaudia alone with the man.
The man stood up with a methodical, deliberate precision and gestured towards the empty seat.
"In the name of Sigmar, I bid you the warmest of welcomes, Princess Klaudia. I am Karl Franz von Holswig-Schliestein, Prince of the City-State of Altdorf in which you are now a guest," he said. His booming voice reassuring and intimating Klaudia in equal measure. "You must be famished. Come, sit. Let us wine and dine as equals."
Klaudia hesitantly sat down at the chair that was clearly allotted to her. On two large identical plates sat food that seemed nothing less than heavenly: roasted quail (three for Klaudia and five for this Karl Franz), assorted vegetables sitting in a shallow pool of gravy and their own juices, mashed sweet potatoes that smelled of nectar-like butter, and soft steaming bread. Accompanying the food was a jug of wine at the center with two glasses that had already been filled nearly to the brim. Klaudia poked hesitantly at one of the quails at first, but her hunger got the better of her. After scarfing down a portion of her meal, Klaudia hurried to wash it all down with some wine.
"I see this wine is to your liking. It is a well-aged Bordeleaux vintage, gifted to my father by the Royarch of Bretonnia after a great victory against a Norscan horde," Karl Franz said with no small hints of satisfaction as he sipped on his own glass. Klaudia's face went flush, and she didn't know if was because of the drinks she's had or embarrassment of not knowing the meaning behind any of the names mentioned by Karl Franz.
Or her growing irritation and resentment at how this "Prince" seemed blissfully ignorant of the injustices she had suffered at the hands of his subordinates or associates.
"I believe many questions have been asked of you since your arrival in this realm," Karl Franz continued. "Now, you may ask anything you wish."
Something snapped inside Klaudia after that statement. She poured herself a second glass before downing it in mere moments. Then, she gently pushed her plate off to the side. Aidios, give me strength for what I'm about to say next.
"Prince Karl Franz, I thank you for your kind hospitality tonight, but could it not have been extended to me when I first arrived in your lands?" she stood up and slammed her palms on the table. To his credit, Karl Franz did not seem phased in the slightest. "Why is it that you have only showed your grace, let alone your face, after your ruffians have done their best to break me? Why is it that you continue to feed me these fairy tales of lands, gods, and names that do not exist? Why in Aidios' name did you treat me with such contempt?"
A tense silence followed as she stared accusingly at Karl Franz. Yet there was no change in his stoic expression or even a subtle shift in his own gaze. He kept up his impenetrable mask of stoicism as he stared into her eyes, and Klaudia's confidence quickly gave way to uncertainty.
"Princess Klaudia, do you realize that your goddess and nation are as unknown to myself and my subjects as Sigmar and Altdorf are to yourself?" Karl Franz retorted calmly but firmly. "Consider the following: you appear out of nowhere in what is supposedly one of the most heavily guarded areas of my lands; You speak our tongue perfectly yet claim it has a completely different name; You worship a goddess whose name cannot be found in the deepest of our archives; You claim to hail from a nation that does not exist on any of our maps, and the colour of your hair is most unnatural. Would you not find a person like that suspicious if one turned up in your own kingdom?"
"Well…yes," Klaudia replied. "That individual would certainly be investigated for spying."
"Espionage, if it was as innocuous as that," Karl Franz mused bitterly. "The first instinct of any properly loyal and devout Empire man is to suspect that person of heresy and turn he or she over to the closest Witch Hunter."
Klaudia's mouth was agape. She didn't know how to process the fact the ordeals she had went through had been sanction at the very top. That those 'Witch Hunters' and 'Warrior Priests' were not rogue agents like Colonel Richard had been. Before she could form any coherent response or allow her anger at the sheer injustice visited upon her to erupt into something she would regret saying or doing, Karl Franz spoke once more.
"Princess Klaudia, I will make no apologies for Sigmar's servants fulfilling their duties, but I know myself that it is a cruel necessity the at best of times. Throughout this nation's recorded history, the only beings who break through the veil of reality and emerge in our world are either truly divine or evil beyond measure," His tone became a lot more sympathetic as he poured her some more wine. "I know you are no servant of the Dark Gods nor are you on some divine mission, but a confused vagabond who was hurled across the veil of reality to emerge in our own. Yet you are alone in that, and we could not have known unless the Witch Hunters conducted a thorough investigation. This nation – no, this world – cannot afford to come to ruin simply because of misguided mercy."
"Dark…Gods?" Klaudia couldn't help but shudder as she said those words. She wanted to continue her protest, but those two words drew her and scared her.
"Indeed. Tell me, does the word chaos revolt you?" Karl Franz asked. "Does the mere mention of that word give you sensions you would not have otherwise felt in your own realm?"
Klaudia opened her mouth, but no words came due to an unnatural dryness in her mouth. Karl Franz was right. "Chaos" was just a word back home, yet ever since her imprisonment the mere mention of that word elicited a primal dread within her. It felt like being stalked by a vicious predator that who would only appear if it wanted to be found. A predator that would butcher its prey for nothing but its own sick amusement before using the victim's mutilated remains as lures for fresh victims. She tried to speak, but could only let out choking gasps, so Klaudia opted to just nod.
"I see, then you will understand what I have to say next. There is an ancient, deep rot in this world. It nests beyond the veil of reality in the Realm of Chaos and will take any opportunity it can to prey on the peoples of this world – body, mind, and soul," Karl Franz explained. "The corrupted souls can come in many forms: misguided cultists spreading the rot within society, acolytes who summon denizens of the darkness beyond via obscene rituals, even entire nations who give themselves to those dark powers and seek to conquer and subjugate in their unholy names."
"Wh-what does any of that have to do with me?"
"Firstly, for you to arrive in this world you had to have gone through that Realm even if you do not recall it yourself. To arrive precisely where and when you did meant some being directed your path here. Whether it is by the hands of your goddess, Sigmar, or any of the Dark Gods, I cannot say. However, I do believe there is some kind of plan for you," Karl Franz explained. "Of course, plans can be subverted and corrupted. I know too many tales of devout men of all faiths becoming twisted shadows of their former selves. If they already knew of Chaos and still fell, how will you bode when faced with such temptation? You, who were not born into this world and ignorant to its unceasing wars and its unending terrors."
That last question made Klaudia shudder. Deep down, she knew that Weissmann's wickedness could not hold a candle to one such follower of Chaos.
"Secondly, you are the inheritor of your nation's throne. One of Chaos' favourite targets is people with such authority. It is much easier to go astray when those entrusted to rule over you are leading you down the path of damnation," Karl Franz explained as he put a hand on his hammer's handle. "If, by Sigmar's grace, we somehow send you home, we absolutely cannot allow that to happen."
A long silence filled the room. Karl Franz's every word drew Klaudia's full attention, and the last remaining hopes of reaching home were finally shattered. It was a disgusting perverted jest, not by Weissmann, not by Ouroboros and its Aidios-damned Grandmaster, not even by the Goddess Herself and the thirsting gods of this world.
For all she could care for, they were all culpable. Klaudia tried to fight it, tried to keep true to her promise, but hot tears nonetheless flowed.
"Why? Why has this happened to me?" Klaudia began to weep, giving no care to the imposing older man sitting across from her. "I just wanted to help my nation, help my friends, help those I loved. I was finally willing to accept the crown, to embrace the destiny that I had been running from for too long. Why oh why in Aidios's name do I have to rot and die in this world?"
As Klaudia continued to sulk, she heard slow steady footsteps before she held a firm hand on her shoulder.
"I do not claim to know Sigmar's will, nor even Volkmar himself on some days. Even less so for this goddess of yours. I do know that you are fated for great things, be it here or in your own kingdom. Sigmar works in mysterious ways - so says the clergy of His church - and perhaps your goddess's followers share that sentiment," Karl Franz spoke with the stern but reassuring tone of a father. "Take comfort in knowing that the peoples of this world have fought, survived, and even thrived for millennia despite the myriad horrors assailing it."
"How? How could you possibly know?" Klaudia asked bitterly. "You admitted yourself that you are just the Prince of some city-state!"
"Princess Klaudia, I supposed this is the time for me to apologize for deception on my part. You see, Altdorf is no mere city-state. It is the capital of the Grand Principiality of Reikland, which I am Grand Prince of," Karl Franz explained sincerely as he sat back down. "However, the nations of this world better know Altdorf as the capital city of the Empire of Man. A nation united twenty-five centuries ago by Holy Sigmar Himself and has stood – albeit on a lame footing for most of that time – ever since. A nation of which I am Emperor.
"When I judge you to be free of Chaos taint; when I decree you destined for greatness, I speak from experience and from the burden of knowledge inherited from Sigmar's mortal days," Karl Franz filled Klaudia's glass and his own with wine. "But there is something I need to hear for myself first and not via dry written reports. Come, Princess Klaudia, tell me your story. Be not meek for surely it is both the latest chapter of a long saga and the opening pages of your own."
The final remnants of resistance, which had been steadily crumbling the moment Karl Franz had opened his mouth, finally melted away. Coloured by her treatment at the hands of Colonel Richard, she had distrusted this Prince and Emperor at first. Yet he shone with nothing but sincerity and conviction as he spoke. Perhaps she knew deep down that Karl Franz was someone could trust. Perhaps her will had finally been broken by the brutal truth about her actually being in an entirely different world with no possible way home. Regardless of the cause, she spoke as if Aidios guided Klaudia's tongue herself.
Karl Franz listened with rapt attention as Klaudia spoke. She talked of Liberl's beginnings when her distant ancestor had rallied the desperate survivors of a dying civilization. She talked of Liberl's neighbours and especially Erebonia and the Hundred Days War. She talked her wise grandmother, of her beloved late parents, even her scandalous uncle.
Finally, she talked of herself. A burdened girl who had tried to escape the destiny thrust upon her and only came to terms with it after adventures with a close friend. A young lady who had personally traveled her kingdom to study it firsthand and lend a helping hand wherever Estelle would take her. A determined princess who wanted to save her kingdom and was willing to put her life on the line to do so.
Karl Franz patiently listened to all of it, stopping only to ask Klaudia for clarification about certain names and ideas he was unfamiliar with. After Klaudia finished, the two enjoyed a few quiet moments with naught but wine for company.
"Sigmar's holy men truly did not do your saga justice when they relayed it to me," Karl Franz raised his glass in salute. "Your story, especially your previous insecurity about inheriting your throne, reminded me of myself in my younger days.
In fact, you spent your youth much better than I did. Where you busied yourself with your studies, I drowned myself in one of Altdorf's many taverns," Karl Franz continued. "Your story also reminds me of another. A tale my father loved to regale to me during my boyhood. Perhaps you would find it inspirational as well. It is the life story of a great man from two centuries ago by the name of Magnus von Bildhofen."
After taking time to sip his wine, Karl Franz began.
"It was a dark and lawless age, when Sigmar's legacy had been trampled into the mud and the Empire consumed by civil war and famine. At the same time, a Chaos Lord by the name of Asavar Kul united the dark tribes of the north and carved a bloody path through Kislev, a northern ally of the Empire," Karl Franz said. "At the time, Magnus was but a young nobleman, sent away by his family to study at a university in the city of Nuln because they found his devotion to Sigmar excessive. It was not quite exile, but the intent was the same. He was not ignorant to the horrors within the Empire and without, nor was he unaware of the malicious intent of his family, but did he despair?
"No, he did not. Even before word of the war in Kislev had reached him, Magnus had already established a reputation among his peers and teachers for his devotion and skilled rhetoric. He preached a message of unity and defiance in the face of overwhelming odds. At the time, the city he was studying was under the sway of a Chaos cult. Yet within a fortnight, when the twin-tailed comet proudly blazed through the heavens once more, Magnus roused Nuln's devout in rebellion and purged the city of its corruption," Karl Franz continued, his voice and eyes filled with an unusually youthful wonder and admiration. "Then, he and his army spread forth from Nuln, preaching that same message of unity and defiance. Even the most selfish and incompetent noble were moved by his speeches and conviction, pledging themselves to his service. When challenged by acolytes of other gods, Magnus withstood every trial they had thrown at him, including walking through Ulric's sacred flame without a single singed hair.
"He was even able to secure the cooperation of the Dwarfs, and with the greatest army known to Imperial history, he marched north. At the gates of Kislev, Magnus brought long-awaited deliverance. The combined Imperial and Dwarf army smashed into the Chaos host, standing tall even in the face of foul sorcery and daemons conjured from the deepest pits of Hell itself," Karl Franz continued. "Magnus himself challenged Asavar Kul - who already had the full blessing of his Dark Gods - and beheaded the Chaos warlord in single combat. Already on the backfoot from the counterattack, Kul's death drove the Chaos army into the depths of despair, causing them to turn their axes upon each other even as they fled.
"But Magnus's story did not end with the Great War against Chaos. For he was an equally capable statesman in peace as in war. With the unanimous agreement from the Elector Counts – the highest rank of nobility in the Empire – Magnus was crowned Emperor," Karl Franz said. "The Empire experienced prosperity and unity not seen since the days of Sigmar Himself, and during that time Magnus established many institutions that have long outlived him. The Imperial Gunnery School of Nuln and the Colleges of Magic are two such examples.
"Magnus enjoyed a long peaceful reign, and after his death the Cult of Sigmar granted him the tile 'Pious' due to his deeds and devotion to Sigmar. There is a popular movement to have him canonized, and his bloodline still runs strong to this day albeit somewhat diminished in status," Karl Franz's expression suddenly darkened. "Yet in the two centuries since his reign, the lessons learned in blood have once more been forgotten. When I assumed the crown, a group of corrupt nobles attempted to overthrow me in civil war, and The Empire was once more under the thumbs of the craven and the greedy. I have fought enemies without and within for equal measure, and there is no end in sight. Perhaps The Empire and humanity as a whole is doomed to repeat the mistakes of their forebearers until the Dark Gods' servants have their final victory, but by Sigmar's name I will not let it happen during my time or my children's time.
"You are more like Magnus the Pious than you realize, Princess Klaudia. The Patriarch of the Bright College attempted to divine your fate and told me that you have a flame within you waiting to be ignited. This is what I have to offer you: to help you light that fire so it may blaze even brighter than you could ever imagine," Karl Franz began to wind down his tale. "But first, you must learn from us. It would do you no good to be cloistered in Mordheim, nor would working as a mere assistant for the Supreme Patriarch. What I offer you is a place among my retinue. You will aid the others in mundane tasks, and you will accompany me when I go on campaign. The finest guardians of the land will ensure your safety, and I shall endeavor to tutor you personally when I can…"
"It didn't seem like you had an option to turn him down," Father Kevin said as he frantically jotted down notes. "From the way you described this Karl Franz guy, he would have killed you on the spot if you refused."
"That was exactly how I felt at the time as well," Klaudia chuckled. "Yet he carried himself with such charisma that I did not want to refuse."
"As much as I want to pry further, we are running pretty short on time," Kevin apologized. "Maybe one last comment from you before I call it a day?"
"Of course. Know that my training started the day after," Klaudia said. "Practice duels at dawn with Julia is one thing, but sparring with Ludwig Schwarzhelm – Karl Franz's very own personal champion – was another matter entirely…"
A/N: For people who find Karl Franz's use of the word 'lame' weird, that word is actually far older than what people might think. In the original context, it referred to having a bad leg.