Special thanks for Angel Wraith, who read the draft of this chapter and provided feedback. And Ace-Triad for coming back to help me edit again.
Special mention to my long time reader/consultant Commissar Gaunt, who provided valuable feedbacks and helped me making the story more authentic.
As always, stay behind at the end to watch me blabber some more.
The princess sits still with Raphtalia and the Shield Hero, only vaguely aware of the others sitting down around them. For a long while, nobody says a word or makes a noise, simply letting the salty seawind, and the distant sound of the soup kitchen workers wash over them. No doubt, everyone is taking their own time, putting the events of the past day or two into perspective.
For someone who can talk her way through an entire opera and lie some more for good measure, she is learning to appreciate the silence. There are no more lies, not even half-truths or lies by omission. Only the wordless support shared with each other, from the people she has gotten to know more through their journey by looking at the sad remains of a broken statue.
As the sun slowly sinks west towards the Defiant Bay, the princess feels like this quiet moment could stretch forever, or at the very least well into the night. But it was not to be, as the distant echoes of a church bell rings behind her.
At first, the princess wonders if the soup kitchen is opening to all the survivors. But then the chime goes much longer than she expected. Long and permeating at first, and then broken down to shorter ones. She didn't count from the start, so she missed how many shorter chimes are carried out.
Mein pulls her arm back from Raphtalia and turns around to look at their new Three Heroes' Church friends. Sure enough, she finds them, and the church workers in the distance, even a few destitute Port Harp survivors making the sign of holy triangle in front of their chests.
Chapter 68: Dear Old Friends
"Is there something going on?" Naofumi also noticed the unusual event. He turns around and looks to Jaune for an answer.
"Three long bells, followed by twelve shorter ones… one of the twelve Vicars from our faith has left us to join the Three Heroes of old." Jaune's face looks even more solemn than before. "It has to be Vicar Laurence. His lungs had been deteriorating since the beginning of the Wave..."
Pyrrha moves closer to Jaune from behind him. She pauses for a moment, eyes settled on the blonde templar's neck, hands in the air as if trying to decide where to place it. The redhead settles her hand lightly on his shoulder in the end. "He's the old master of your mentor, isn't he?"
"Yes, he taught Master Logarius everything he knows." The blonde boy's eyes don't move away from the vague direction of the capital. "Last I saw him, Master Logarius was in Lute, investigating that incident with the Faubley high inquisitor. I… wonder if he had a chance to say his goodbyes."
Mein nearly recoils back from Jaune's simple comment. At least Vicar Laurence passed away in bed. It's hard to say if it's peaceful as if he fell into eternal slumber, or painful where he coughs and hacks to his last breath. But it's not buried under the entire weight of a mountain.
"What should we do with this Orb of Power?" The princess turns around, and sees the needle- headed rogue holding the accursed artifact in his hand towards Coach Zellus. Of course, the rogue was one of the closest men from her back in the scuffle. He had time to pick the orb up, after dodging away from her magic.
"Old Al was the one who wanted it, and he's not around anymore. What do I want it for?" Coach Zellus rips the orb out of Moda's hand, his off hand comment making Mein cringe away again. The royal guard Vice-Captain looks sideways at the Shield Hero, and tosses the orb to him. "Catch, shield boy. You keep it."
"NO!" Naofumi swings his hand with a start, slapping the orb away from him. The House Seaetto artifact everyone was fighting over not half a day now rolls around in dirt and grass. The Shield Hero gives it a disdained glare, before slowly looking at Eclair, who hasn't said a single word since the collapse. "Is that okay with you? No offense, but that thing's clearly cursed! Your father, and Mein both went crazy with it. I say give it to the church, and let them worry about it."
Eclair's body gives a small, but sudden jerk at Shield Hero's question. Her head tilted slightly towards Naofumi, before moving away. "...Do what you like."
Her undead sworn shield whips her own head around. Lucatiel stares at Eclair silently behind her silver mask, looking ready to protest. But she remains silent in the end, clearly resigned to let her master make all the decisions.
"Are you su-" Jaune doesn't even get to finish his reply when he is rudely cut off by the phoenix prince.
"Please reconsider, my king! You should not be so quick to give away any advantage." Prince Kael'thas steps between the Shield Hero, and the templars. His eyes filled with distrust fueled scorn. "Especially from the ones who see you as some devil figure. If it's man of faith you need, we also-"
"And who do you want me to trust, YOU!?" The Shield Hero seems fed up with the phoenix prince's arrogance. As the normally mild mannered young man actually gives a violent shove on Kael'Thas' shoulder, making the phoenix prince stumble on his feet. "Do you think being a prince makes you better than anyone else? Well, it doesn't to me! And let me make it clear to you, since you clearly don't get it, I don't appreciate you looking down and talking shit about my friends, and people who helped me! So either shut up, or go fuck off to where you came from!"
The phoenix prince, Mein, and even Raphtalia all recoil back from the Shield Hero's sudden burst of anger.
"Please, forgive me for overstepping, my king. I didn't mean to harm you…" The phoenix prince looks over to the people around Naofumi, and finally bows his head. "Or talk down to your… friends. I only wanted to keep you safe."
"I was doing a pretty good job before you showed up. I think I can manage." Naofumi's frown slowly recedes from his face as he crosses his arm. He slowly turns to the blonde templar again. "Go ahead, take the damn orb before it does something else."
"Thank you for your trust, Shield Hero. We will not fail you." Jaune looks like he's about to go pick the orb up. But he's passed over by Richard before he has a chance.
"Go get your arm looked after. I got this." The former peasant gives a gentle tap on Jaune's good shoulder. He walks over and kneels beside the orb, takes a white blanket with golden trims and holy triangles sewed on, wraps it around the artifact and takes it into his hands. "Well, at least I don't feel like murdering anyone. That should be a good sign."
"Don't let your guard down, Brother Richard. Curses can take many forms." Martin walks over by Richard with Alfred. He gives one more look to Jaune. "Go have your bones set, Brother Jaune. It's not good leaving your arm broken like this, it might heal incorrectly."
"Yes, I really should." The Arc boy touches his broken arm with his good hand and shows a slight grimace. Now everything is settled, he is clearly more aware of his wound.
"I'll make sure he gets the proper treatment." Pyrrha gives a light push behind the blonde templar, and guides him towards the camp of the church lay-workers. Richard's group also leaves, although they turn towards the direction of the military camp outside the town's ruin.
"Do you want to… go and see where you used to live, Raphtalia?" Naofumi sets his hand on the raccoon dog girl's shoulder. She jumps on her feet, making the Shield Hero immediately pull his hand back. "You might… I don't know. Find something to remember your family by."
Raphtalia looks straight into Naofumi's eyes, long enough to make him slowly avert his gaze before she replies with a simple 'Okay'. She clearly doesn't look very enthusiastic about it.
The lost princess of Q'ten Lo guides everyone towards the direction of a hill to the northern side of the town. Raphtalia's grandfather had chosen a good place to set his home. The angled slope makes it a more defensible position, and also allows his family to overlook the port city they helped develop. Perhaps he intended to use this place as a stage to eventually plan to retake his lost home. But in the end, it didn't help keep his descendants safe from the Wave.
Mein looks around at the broken remnant of what must have been once a grand and opulent estate. Not much remained, mostly scorched marks and piles upon piles of blackened and charred wood scraps and splinters.
If her history lessons were correct, the raccoon people of Q'ten Lo are especially found to make their dwellings solely out of wood. They were capable of building clever and exotic structures out of the material, but Osterrain stonewood aside, even ironwood isn't the best at resisting harshest elements, and a Wave of Catastrophe definitely counts as one.
Even still, she can sense the scale of the Hirata estate before the disaster. The size of the ruins is easily as large as her own family's summer vacation estate, or a manor fit for a duke. The first princess of Melromarc brushes her gloved hand across the remaining iron wood jutting out of the ground, and imagines the fortune it would cost to burn all the materials she can see, let alone the ones that were completely destroyed.
"Damn. It's like going through the ruin of the bombed out Imperial Opera house…" Naofumi carefully tread his way across the ruin, he looks left and right at "...Must have been a mansion fit for a king."
"Not a king… or noble." Raphtalia mumbles under her breath. She gives a sideway glance at the Shield Hero. "Just a merchant family."
Naofumi quickly gives a look at the Siltvelt emissaries before looking back at Raphtalia. "Right, just a very affluent merchant family. Wonder if we'll find anything before the sun goes down."
"Worry not, my king. We have all the manpower at your command." The phoenix prince calls out from a distance. He looks excited at having a chance to rectify his earlier blunders. "MEN! Your king has a need for you! Comb through what remains of his companion's estate and find something, anything of value. I don't care if you have to dig three rulers into the dirt!"
With an uniformed reply that sounds more like a melody than an acknowledgement of order, the hundreds of men from the Siltvelt emissary party spread out and began to carefully work through the field of broken woods together with the people from the Shield Hero's party.
Mein herself picks a spot near the edge, and starts to pick through things. With the amount of destruction, she doesn't expect to find anything of value left over. Especially since this place was further raided by manhunters, judging by how Raphtalia ends in slavery in the first place.
Still, it's nice to have something to do where she doesn't have to talk to anyone after her violent outburst back in the catacomb. Not long after, the movement of brushing her hands against the broken wood, picking them up and tossing them aside, trying to see if some scraps of trinkets are hidden underneath becomes a routine, and then a rhythm.
Once again, what little peace of mind she managed to find does not last.
"Are you okay, big sister Mein?" This time, it's the concerned voice of Raphtalia that breaks her almost meditative state, and makes the first princess of Melromarc aware of the outside world again. The raccoon dog girl locks eyes with her, and scoots closer pace by pace. "You've been really quiet since… since the catacomb."
"I'm well, Raphtalia." Mein's hand reaches out, brushing through the raccoon girl's hair. After weeks of using Naofumi's failed hair potion, Raphtalia has a head of soft, lustrous wavy hair that would make her the envy of a high society tea party. "You should put more concern on yourself. This is… was, your home."
Raphtalia's eyes cast down, either trying to remember happier times or avoiding the shock of her family's destruction. "I'm okay now. I think. I… didn't expect to find anything coming back. But it's been over a month, and I'm… I'm okay with that. And I have Master Naofumi and you now. But the old, the elder mage fighting us back in the catacomb-"
"-he was closer to you than some random old wizard, passing by your home and teaching you a lesson or two. Wasn't he?" Mein and Raphtalia both turn their heads towards the new voice, and find the Shield Hero standing a short distance away from them. His shadow is cast much longer by the setting sun than he stands tall, enough to touch them. "I never seen you as upset as you are now. Not when the king tried to separate us, not when you were tearing into Itsuki, not even when you were going after the Bitch Lord."
"Master Naofumi…" Mein stands up together with Raphtalia.
Despite what Mother thinks, the first princess of Melromarc likes to think she wasn't a fool. She knew the day would come when she had to face the consequence of her deceit. But she didn't expect the time would be right after she had grasped what felt like true, unlimited power that's enough to reclaim her birthright.
But in a way, everything fits together as cozy as a warm blanket over a cold winter day. The power she stole from that artifact made her sloppy, and threw away the carefully cultivated 'Mein of Samphor' persona she tried so hard to maintain throughout their journey.
Just like the sudden surge of power made her arrogant, and forgot all the lessons Uncle Aldrecht imparted to her since the very beginning of their lesson. He taught her the importance of controlling her violent affinity, because its volatile nature took away the nanny who took care of her in her most vulnerable childhood.
"You don't stay sad and silent when you are upset. You get loud, and angry." Naofumi slowly moves closer to them, one foot carefully ahead of the other. Close enough that despite the dimming light and growing shadow, Mein can see the dried blood and vomit still lingering on his soft face. "You scream at people, like you want to let them know how upset you are and take them with you. But you barely said anything after that Aldrecht guy died. He… was someone truly close to you, wasn't he?"
"You are right, Master Naofumi." The first princess self-consciously runs her hand through her hair, in an instinctual move to smooth it and make her looks more dignified and presentable, but probably doing the exact opposite considering all the ashes and soot on her hands. She looks away from them, not wanting to see how they react. "He… was close growing up. When I was young, younger than Raphtalia. I lost control of my magic… and I burned my nanny to death."
Both Naofumi, and Raphtalia take a step away from her, in what she can only assume to be utter disgust.
The princess continues her confession, despite the aversion from her two closest companions. "Uncle Aldrecht taught me how to control my magic, to only hurt monsters, or bad people trying to hurt me. He… was almost always there, when my parents were too busy."
I am the first princess of Melromarc.
That's what she should have told the Shield Hero. Instead, she flung her arm forward, and tosses a small [Hydro Sphere] Into Naofumi's face.
"WAH!?" The Naofumi further recoils back with the surprise magic attack. His pet balloons push their way out of the cloak, hissing at Mein. Normally, she would be utterly terrified of the abominations showing open hostility at her, but surprisingly, her fear at them isn't the first emotion bubbling up. "What was that for, Mein?"
"You had dried up blood and vomit on your face. Master Naofumi." Mein points her finger, vaguely at Naofumi's direction.
"Oh, right. That's why my face feels funny…" She hears the sound of someone whipping their face. "All better now, I think. Thanks for the face wash, Mein."
"You are very welcome." Mein further turns away from Naofumi and Raphtalia, she looks at the beastman combing through the wreckage of the 'Hirata' estate.
Even Kael'Thas, the prince of the phoenix house is knee deep in the burnt carcass of the no doubt, once grandiose estate built by Raphtalia's grandfather. His extravagant vermilion battle robe stained black near the end.
"It's better you leave me behind, Master Naofumi." The princess casts her eyes down at her foot. "You already have a lot of other people you trust and can depend on. You don't need me being your sword anymore. In the end, I only ever hurt the people I cared about."
She's been living the life of a court princess for too long. One in which everyone constantly wears a mask on their face, words are always lies wrapped inside honeyed poison. It's much easier to lie than to tell the truth. Both to the people one wants to manipulate… and to oneself.
It truly hurts to admit out loud that her mother, or heroes of the old forbid, the Consevatie fop had been right about her all along.
In the end, it's easier to have the Shield Hero leave her behind. She would much rather him never learn what she truly is, and give her UP for her violent, uncontrollable magic. Then to hear his soft encouragement turns into vehement curses, when he inevitably learns she is the very thing that disgusts him.
"I'm not going to give up on you." She feels his armored arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. "You didn't give up on me when I was falsely accused twice. You didn't give up on me when that inquisitor guy tried to murder me. You didn't give up on me when I was kidnapped by that Raven asshole. You made mistakes… and admittedly killed some people. You clearly regret it, we'll work it out together. Don't think too much… I won't force you to do what you aren't comfortable with."
The princess briefly wonders if this includes keeping secret from him.
"You also saved my life back in the bottom of that abandoned mine, Big Sister Mein." Raphtalia walks over, and leans her face against Mein's hand. "I wouldn't even be alive, if you weren't there. I'm going to stay with you, just like Master Naofumi."
"Thank you." The first princess of Melromarc rested one of her hands on Naofumi's arm, and the other on Raphtalia's head. She feels fortuitous of having such accepting close companions on one hand, yet dreading the inevitable future when everything is revealed. For the moment, she simply savors the moment when she is favored by someone, even if the one they support isn't her true self.
As the sun begins to truly sink below the horizon of Defiant Bay and the melancholy orange light grows ever dim, a small trickle trinket starts to come in through the impromptu excavation team made of Siltveltian warriors. Nothing significant, at least to a princess: a small bracelet of polished beads tied together through string, a curved idol roughly resembles a humanoid with raccoon features, a tainted folding fan that might once have a poem or a scene painted on by watery ink.
Naofumi takes the fan in his hands, opens it up and squints his eyes at the few words still recognizable through all the grim, dirt and singed paper. He folds it back after a while, and hands it to Raphtalia with a sigh. "I was hoping the writing would look Japanese…"
"Prince Sunstrider!" One of the Siltveltian warriors, wearing white than gold and having the red circle on his chest, runs up to the phoenix prince, making him look up from the patch of wooden scrap he's working through. A templar from the Shield Hero's Church. "You have to look at this."
Mein squints her eyes like Naofumi did earlier, to better focus on what the templar is holding. It looks like a small comb, too small to effectively brush and smooth out one's hair. Some kind of hair ornament, maybe?
The prince of the phoenix house takes the object in his hand and turns it over a few times. His previous dismissive look slowly becomes more stern as his sight slowly drifts away from the shield templar onto the Shield Hero's party, narrowing onto Raphtalia in the end. His voice was low. "The Rising Sun, emblem of the old Kyutenrou royal family?"
"There's no royalty here, only a very rich merchant family, having a few trinkets from the old royal family." The Shield Hero clearly understands what kind of suspicion the phoenix prince is currently having. "Unless you think I'm a liar?"
It's rather ironic that for once the Shield Hero is lying through his teeth (poorly), he insists that he is telling the truth. Even goes as far as using his hero status to bully the other side.
Mein gives a quick glance at Raphtalia, who is clearly biting her lips while looking at her feet. She can understand why Naofumi is actively going against the integrity he usually tries so hard to maintain.
"Of course, my king. There is no Kyutenrou royalty among your companions. And there will absolutely be no malicious rumor making its way back to Siltvelt, am I clear?" The phoenix prince answers it in a way that shows he understands what the Shield Hero is getting at. He also gives a harsh glare back at the templar who handed him the hair ornament.
"My life for the Shield." The templar in question, a man with a cat's head immediately bows his head down and recites what sounds like a vow. "May a thousand arrows pierce my heart, if any malicious rumors spread back in Siltvelt."
"A bit more extreme than I would have liked." Naofumi's feet shuffled a little, his eyes narrowed a little. Not out of annoyance or anger, but more out of fatigue. "But thank you for your discretion."
"Speaking of discretion, my king…" The phoenix prince steps closer to the Shield Hero, his voice still low. "It doesn't befit my role to speak ill of my fellow lords, but I advise you to beware of the clan head of the fifty-seventh clan, known by the humans as Lord Isshin. He is well known for sending his agents out all over the known world, searching for descendants of Kyutenrou's royal family."
The Shield Hero takes the hair ornament from Kael'thas' hand and gives it to Raphtalia as the rest of the broken, weathered trinket they discovered so far. "We'll keep it in mind."
The sun eventually sets and the night falls. The Shield Hero opened his own little soup station like the laymen from Three Heroes' Church. The templars from the Shield Hero's Church help him serve the food to refugees.
The refugees initially hesitate to approach their stand. Probably on account of the intimidating beastman warriors surrounding them. A few hungry looking children, both human and demi-human, clearly not getting enough nourishment from catching bread crumbs between the adults approach them. After seeing the children served by the Shield Hero and his Shield Hero Church followers, the adults start to approach them soon after.
Some of the Three Heroes Church members give nods and smiles of appreciation to the Shield Heros. Others throw dirty looks their way and grumbles under their breath. But either due to the intimidation of Naofumi's temporary Siltvelt retinue, or discipline from their own inquisitors, nobody starts a scene, or incident.
Not long after the refugees, the Siltvelt emissary party, and they themselves all had their stomach filled, it's time to rest for the night before the journey back to Balafon resumes tomorrow. Once again, the Siltvelt warriors all form a protective circle around the Shield Hero, clearly not intending to let him out of their sight.
All of it feels absolutely suffocating, like the guards and knights father surrounded themselves with whenever they make a trip out of the confines of their castle home. Especially the period after her little post Wailing Death escapade. Only this time, the stifling presence of heavy guards is not coupled with the underlying sense of security, considering what happened the last time they camped close to agents from Siltvelt.
She desperately needs some air to calm her mind, or else she won't be able to sleep at all. As she watches Naofumi tuck Raphtalia into her sleeping bag, she approaches the Shield Hero from the side. "I'm going for a walk before resting, Master Naofumi."
"Are you sure?" The Shield Hero immediately wipes around to face her. "Maybe you shouldn't wander away from everyone? Remember what happened last time when you only went to take a… relieve yourself?"
"Yeah… you don't have to remind me." The princess closes her eyes, and brushes off the sweat starting to dampen her hair. That was definitely one of her more harrowing brush against death, even for a journey that nearly killed her multiple times and left her with a weakened heart. "But remember who caused that incident? And now we are surrounded by their countrymen."
"...Right." The Shield Hero casts his eyes around the hundredth of Siltvelt warriors surrounding them. His face was no less weary than the princess. "Maybe you should take someone with you? Eclair, maybe? She seems to get along well with you."
"Eclair is dealing with her own problems after her home is completely caved in." Both of them recoil back a little, after Mein says it out loud. "I'll be fine. There are many more Three Heroes' Church members around us. I don't think the Siltveltian warriors will act particularly unwise."
Naofumi stays silent, seemingly pondering over her words for a while before nodding. "If you say so. But if something, anything feels wrong, scream, or make a big explosion. We'll come running after you immediately."
"Yes, I shall keep it in mind." The princess nods her head, and begins to make her way through the encampment of Siltveltian warriors. Some of them cast curious looks at her, but most simply kept to themselves. Hundreds of men sounds like a great number, but it didn't take too long to walk through their temporary camp. Considering they are surrounding the Shield Hero's followers from all sides, and it's only a campsite through the night, not a full encampment preparing for battle, or long term dwelling.
She has no particular destination in mind, considering most things are destroyed during the first Wave. What few precious buildings that are somewhat intact are commandeered by the Three Heroes' Church, either as planning rooms, storage facilities, or field hospitals to treat the ailing refugees. She picks the direction towards the sea, and starts walking west, it feels as good a goal as any.
The first princess of Melromarc never visited Port Harp during its heyday. Both due to Father's aversion to anything related to beastmen and demi-humans, or the lack of need for the trip. Lord Uther only had a single child, a daughter who is fostering under the royal house and training as a knight to serve the queen similar to Prince Joseph's niece.
A nicer way to say a political hostage. And considering her mother had no sons, there's no political marriage to be negotiated to strengthen the ties between two families. Not that there's much value in a political marriage between their two families anyway: Lord Uther's family wasn't particularly liked even within the lords that were supposed to serve under him, and he's already a steadfast supporter of Mother in the first place.
But she did have more than one visit to House Amelia's own seat of power, and Ameliport on account of her courtship with the son of their family. So she is not a complete stranger to a port city. Even looking at the remains of the building, one can see the difference between two port cities.
Compared to Ameliport having a large, well maintained and straight road stretching down each cardinal direction and all buildings spawn around it, Port Harp's building takes a more haphazard placement. This feels especially true as she makes her way closer and closer to the seaside. She wonders if Lord Uther, or more accurately, Raphtalia's family had tried to cover it up after the city had fully taken its shape. But the trading port's original status as a small fishing village, and then built up by a group of impoverished refugees is still easy to see.
The western sea at the dead of the night has a different side of beauty compared to the sombering evening when the sun sets. Countless stars decorate the darkened sky as a wheel of silver moon floats above her head, casting its reflection in water. The sea which looked serene under the orange and purple afterglow now looks eerie, almost reminding the princess of a balloon monster's open maw where anything they devour seems to disappear into some unspeakable abyss.
She sits down near the beach, reflecting back over different verses of the founder's Grimoire of Water. If she actually took his philosophy to heart, rather than seeing it as a hindrance, and an obstacle for her to learn his magical skills, would she have been able to tame her magic better. Would Uncle Aldrecht still be alive? He really didn't have to die, if she managed to subdue him.
"Your Highness?" The familiar voice is low, clearly trying to not provoke unwanted attention. But it might as well have been a quake going off her ears.
The princess, caught in the moment like a rabbit pill looking at a sudden [Mage Light] at night, turns towards the person without thinking. Standing under the dim moonlight is Jaune, his broken arm in a sling. No doubt to keep the bones in the right place, so they don't become deformed once it heals after his rest. His fellow faithful clearly consider it a waste of resources to cast a healing miracle, or give him potion in a non combat situation when a good eight hours' [Well Rest] would do an equal job.
"It really is you… I thought your voice was familiar." The boy takes a few tentative steps towards her, pausing for a few moments between every step. From the way his face stays neutral, his trepidation is clearly not caused by pain in his broken arm. "Why are you in the Shield Hero's party under a fake identity? He isn't mistreating you, like the rumor said, is he? I mean, he looks nice and acts dutifully, but if he's rough with you…"
"What? NO!" The princess jumps on her feet a little, genuinely feeling a little offended at the accusation.
Granted, it's understandable what kind of rumor would be circulating around Jaune, considering the kind of company he would have as a Three Heroes Church knight. But still, after courting her, the young man should know better than assume she's some kind of weak damsel who simply sits down, and takes abuse from a pompous man, summoned hero or not.
"He's a perfect gentleman around me!"
"That's nice to hear. You deserve someone who'll treat you like a queen." The only boy of House Arc shuffles his feet around, looking self-conscious all of a sudden. "Someone who'll inherit more than a rundown keep, and a farming, or fishing village too."
The princess can't help but back off a step, knowing full well she had a hand in the insecurity Jaune is currently showing. "You are more than what you'll inherit from your family, Jaune. You are making a name for yourself, as a knight templar serving the church."
"I tried my hardest. Master Logarius was a good teacher, but I still feel I fall short." Jaune's head only hangs lower. "The first time I tried to take command of a situation, I had half of the men reject my command right away."
"Oh, don't you let Consevatie and his toadies get you down. They were self-righteous fools!" The princess steps forward, till she stands right in front of the lost looking young man and gives a few encouraging pats on his face with her hands. "The other half was willing to follow you to their death… and I see you aren't so shabby in the relationship part yourself."
"Whatever do you mean?" Jaune looks up at Mein, genuinely looking shocked at her last comment. The princess wonders how he has managed to miss all the signs the only female knight in his group was showing.
"Do you really want me to spell it out for you?" The princess looks at the son of ArchDuke Wales, a fox-like sly smile on her face. She nudges Jaune in the chest with her elbow. "I must leave a pretty strong impression with you, for you to develop a thing for redheads, huh?"
"WAH?! You meant Pyrrha?" The Arc boy nearly falls backwards onto his behind, Mein has to reach out and grab his good shoulder till he regains his balance. "No, no! Pyrrha is… well, she's someone I admire, I guess. She's one of the most chivalrous, humble, and compassionate people I know. Even if she came from Zeltbole."
Jaune's remark makes the first princess of Melromarc lament the sad state of chivalry in her nation. To think… a former gladiatrix from the barbaric, and savage free city of Zeltbole. Most well known for its fight to the death bloodsports, and sacrificial festivals where they viciously execute prisoners. Ends up being one of the best examples of chivalry to a son of one of the most prestigious noble houses of glorious Melromarc.
She isn't someone like Eclair, but even she feels a bit of regret at the possibility that chivalry and honor is truly dead in Melromarc.
"Enough about me though, you haven't answered my question. Why are you traveling with the Shield Hero with a fake identity? And it doesn't look like he knows it."
Mein hesitates, briefly considering what she should tell the boy who used to court her. The whole truth clearly doesn't work, considering how well uncle Aldrecht's attempted negotiation with him burnt down. As much as it pains her, she'll have to spin another tale to her advantage.
"It was a flight of fancy at first. I'm curious what the summoned heroes are like, and wanted to live my romance novel fantasy in real life. And I didn't want my father to fuss over me, or object. You know how he is." The princess looks up, and gives a tired smile towards the blonde templar.
"Ah, yes. I remember how his majesty threatened me with unimaginable pain if I ever hurt you." Jaune's bound shoulder moves against its fabric restriction. The boy was clearly trying to scratch his hair without thinking about his injuries. A frown slowly dawns on his boyishly handsome features. " I was baffled at how he was treating the Shield Hero at the banquet, but knowing it's you there… That explained everything. Why didn't you say anything to His Majesty later? You made your father make a fool of himself, and his opinion on the Shield Hero is clearly even more soured."
"I didn't make all the best decisions. It's true. Uncle Aldrecht gave me a good scolding on that part." The princess would have denied any mistakes, or wrong doing on her own part if this had been the beginning of her incognito journey with the Shield Hero. But after going through so many things, she has at least come to learn how to let go of a little of her pride, and accept her own faults. "But you remember the false accusation leveled at the Shield Hero on the third day of his summoning?"
"Yes, I do." The Arc boy visibly flinches at its mention. "I wasn't there, but it was the talk in the cathedral's halls for the whole week. People talking about how he's already turning into a second coming of the King of Rape."
"I discovered it wasn't some honest mistake, or another hairbrained scheme launched by an envious noble lady. I… don't want to say everything, but same as Lord Noches, Father's spymaster, I suspect there is a conspiracy wrapping both the summoned heroes, and the royal house." Of course she's not going to mention how the prime conspirator happened to be her father, the king regent of Melromarc himself. "And with the Shield Hero for being who he is and the reputation of his predecessor… he was an easy target to unravel the whole chain. I thought it best I continue to travel alongside the Shield Hero. Gathering evidence, till I find something more damning and bring them to either Father, or Lord Noches."
"So, that was why you were siding with Lord Aldrecht… You were also investigating the conspiracy. And you suspected the church's involvement… and why wouldn't you?" Realization slowly dawns on Jaune's face. "Our faith vilifies the Shield Hero, and it's one of the strongest factions besides House De Gallia. There are people with both the motivation and power to challenge the royal family rule, like Confessor Cromwell and his band of sycophants."
The princess wonders if the only boy in the Arc family is starting to wisen up. But then, his next action completely dashes any hope she may have.
"But I assure you, Pope Balmus himself can't have anything to do with whatever conspiracy there may be!" The blonde boy's eyes opened wide with panic. He is clearly more concerned at advocating for the Pope's innocence than considering whatever mistakes he made. "His Eminence is the one who shielded our more open minded members, like Master Logarius from the zealots! Lord Aldrecht is wrong at suspecting-"
"SHUT UP, YOU SENTIMENTAL FOOL! You don't get to bad mouth Uncle Aldrecht after how you FUCKED UP!" Jaune visibly winces from Mein's sudden emotional outburst. "It's all your fault when you gave Uncle Aldrecht an ultimatum back in the crypt than working with him! And Master Naofumi sided against him because of YOU! Because you won't chill the fuck up, it's your life or Uncle Aldrecht's! He's dead and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!"
The angry screams of the first princess break down into labored coughing and heavy breathing. At the moment, she doesn't even care if someone from the camp overheard the commotion, and blows her cover right open when they come to check. The Shield Hero was right once again, she isn't someone who stays silent when she's upset. She would much prefer jumping at people with incandescent pettiness, screaming and kicking them till they feel as bad as she does.
Even if she knows that Uncle Aldrecht's death was ultimately all her fault, it's so much easier to accept his passing by placing the blame on someone else.
It's not fair to Jaune, the only one of her many potential betrothals to put in the effort to make their courtship work. But with Uncle Aldrecht's recent death, she's beyond caring about maintaining a bond that's way past its time, or purpose.
"You are right… I'm sorry." Jaune casts his eyes down with a resigned solemnity, strong enough to take all the wind out of Mein's proverbial sail. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. And a man died without deserving such a fate."
Both of them stare northwest, towards the direction of Jaune's home, New Albion. The princess is grateful that no one has found their way over to them yet. In their mutually silent rumination, she wonders what the only son of House Arc is thinking. Simple homesickness? Or more?
Surely, he misses his family at the very least. Jaune has often mentioned his family during their courtship: His stern, but fair father ArchDuke Wales. The eldest sister, Artoria, who is both reliable and kind to her younger siblings, the perfect role model. Lancelotte, the middle sister, a free-spirited glutton, who contributes to her father and elder sister's many headaches yet cherished foundly by all for bringing laughter to the family. And his youngest elder sister Mordred, who is always there for him, ever caring and attentive.
His family life was much happier than her own. Yet for the life debt his father owed to Pope Balmus, he was sent away to be trained as a knight of the Three Heroes' Church.
"This wasn't my first visit to Port Harp." Jaune breaks the suffocating silence hanging over them, just as the princess starts losing herself in her own musing. "When I was eight, my father brought all four of us to Port Harp. He had a business negotiation with Lord Seaetto and his steward Lord Reichnott, on how our shipping contract would work out. Big Sister Artoria would join their negotiation, to observe how these contracts are negotiated… while Lancelotte, Mordred and myself wandered Port Harp with our guards."
The first princess of Melromarc isn't too sure where the only Arc boy is going with this story, so she listens in silence and allows Jaune to continue his nostalgic narration.
"Lancelotte ran off immediately with some of our guards chasing after her. She wanted to try all the different cuisines of the Q'ten Lo raccoon people were peddling." An exasperated, yet found smile slowly found its way up the young man's face. "Mordred looks like she wanted to chase after her too. Probably to make sure our sister doesn't cause some problems. But she stayed behind with me. And we walked around the port most of that day. I saw how New Albion could have been on that day: humans and demi-humans of Melromarc, working together and combining our strength to build something greater."
"Wasn't New Albion already one of the better cities for demi-humans?" The princess cocks her head to the side, curious at what Jaune is saying. "Especially in the north, Port Harp notwithstanding."
"I guess… My father has a very harsh stance against slavers and manhunters working for them. But the demi-humans… they are still much poorer compared to our human subjects." Jaune slowly sits down on the beach and turns to look at Mein. "You remember my family's history, right?"
"House Arc originated from the cadet branch of Albion royalty. Some of its members escaped Albion when it fell under the beastman horde, and the main branch was all killed." The princess sits down besides the young man who used to court her. Still not within an arm's length, but close enough for them to not have to raise their voice even against the tide of the waves.
"When The Great War happened… it was like that all over again, for Father." Jaune doesn't say much more before falling into silence once again. Yet what left unsaid speaks much more, and louder about ArchDuke Wales.
"Same with my mother, I think." The princess looks down as her fingers brush against and scoop up the grains of sand on Port Harp's beach. One of the few unsullied things left in the remains of a once bustling and prosperous trading city.
She remembers certain laws and reforms Mother tried to pass at the beginning of her reign, to make the lives of demi-humans more livable in Melromarc. It was more of a vague impression than anything more specific on account of her not paying much attention through those lessons. She wasn't too interested in learning about failures, after all.
Yet, her mind wanders through such abstract recollection, some of the details become more vivid. The official history records she read through placed the blame both on the pushback from nobility about granting demi-humans equal rights to their human subjects, and the supposed 'cursed child' born to Count Ascard, the man in charge of the reforms. But now as she reads between the ambiguous lines that's been sitting in her memory, she wonders if Mother simply didn't try hard enough.
It's easy to say that many demi-humans of Melromarc are also victims of Siltvelt's barbarism. Many of them are spawn of rape after all. But as Mother casts her eyes on their fur covered ears and tails, is she not reminded of the savage horde that have taken away her own mother and sister?
"I don't blame my father. I'm sure he did his best." Jaune lets out a heavy sigh. It's hard to tell if he needed to catch his breath, or is genuinely exhausted at the topic. "But I… I think there's a need for improvement. Of course, I wouldn't really have a saying, being the son and the youngest. That'll be Artoria's decision to make when she takes over from Father."
"Are you going to be your sister's general?" The princess turns around to have a better look on the only son of House Arc. "Or will you stay and serve the church?"
"Honestly, I don't know. As the only son, it should be my duty to serve as Artoria's general, but she doesn't really need me. People dismiss Lotte because of how eccentric she is, but she'd be a much better army commander than I." Another reminiscent smile finds its way on the blonde young man's face. He probably didn't even notice he started to use his sister's nickname rather than her full name. "And I get the chance to help more people if I stay with the Three Heroes' Church, and not just my family's subjects from New Albion."
"If you believe in it, stay in the church. We need more good people like you, just to offset pompous asses." Asses like the Consevatie fop, the princess added mentally. She honestly couldn't figure out why Jaune put in the effort to stay cordial with that jester. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to offend the son and designated heir of another Lord Paramount?
It's not like House Consevatie's new found position of power was that solid to begin with! The only reason Mother appointed that worm to oversee the north eastern province after the Great War was because of political compromises.
"It truly is shameful how many of my brothers and sisters have forgotten the teachings from the Heroes of Old. More and more of the faithful, veteran or young recruits are being swayed by Cromwell's influence. I shudder to think what would happen to our faith, once His Eminence passes." Jaune visibly flinches again. "He is still in fantastic health considering his age, but he… isn't exactly young anymore. When that church bell rang earlier today, I was afraid it would be one short followed by three long."
Mein fights back the scoff building up in her nose. It's probably not a good time to bring up how the Pope himself is just another cunning player in The Game.
"The day I joined the Three Heroes' Church, I made a promise to myself: I will never compromise. No matter how hard, I will always do the right thing." The blonde young man dips his head into his slinged arm. "But doing the right thing isn't always doing the good thing, isn't it?"
The princess can't help but notice the similarity between Jaune, and Naofumi at the moment, despite their vastly different features. Both young, ideological men living in a world much crueler than them, and their optimism and belief in moral being more a detriment to them.
Yet, unlike the times when her Naofumi feels sad and dejected, she can't even properly comfort Jaune without coming off as insincere. What words wouldn't sound patronizing coming out of her mouth, when she is the one who accused Jaune of the very thing he is spiraling down an emotional abyss from?
It's one more precious thing she burnt to ashes, out of barely thought out vindictive pettiness.
"Whatever she said, don't listen to her, Jaune!" A voice with a tone of desperation cut through the quiet night, making both Jaune and Mein look back. Standing near the edge of the destroyed port is the redheaded former gladiatrix from Zeltbole.
"Pyrrha?" The blonde templar stands up, grains of sand slowly trails down his pants. The princess follows his example. "How long have you been there?"
"You weren't in your tent resting like you should, so I went around looking for you. Heard shouting from this direction, so I came this way…" Pyrrha's suddenly pausing her rapid strides, clearly realized her error of listening in to their conversation without showing herself. But the Zeltbole native quickly picks up her paces again to stand between the two of them, glaring at the princess in disguise. "You didn't do anything wrong! If that old mage truly had the best intentions, he should have helped us against the undead. Not coming out at the last moment and threatening us!"
"Please, don't get between this, Pyr-" Jaune gives a quick look towards Mein herself, clearly remembering the implication of him being so familiar with the other redhead. "I mean, Sister Nikos. Don't get involved, you don't know the whole thing…"
"Let her think whatever she wants." The princess crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at the former gladiatrix who is so eager at defending Jaune. "I don't have to justify myself."
Especially not to someone like Nikos, a glorified former harlot earning her living by fighting for the viewing pleasure of those Zeltbole savages.
"Please-" The only boy from House Arc didn't manage to start his protest. He is unable to say anything, when Nikos suddenly holds his face and looks into his eyes.
"You are more than good enough, Jaune. Remember what Dick said before we went to fight the undead? He'd rather follow someone like you, who have the best intentions for everyone than people like Consevatie." The redhead former gladiatrix looks back and sends another glare at the princess.
Mein might actually be intimidated, If she is still scheming- a dainty princess who hides behind father's knights. But after their journey of fighting a Faubley high inquisitor and his retinue, Siltvelt barbarians, an ancient thunder lizard the size of a small mountain, and a literal (despite newborn) Outer God… Nikos might have been a former grand champion of the Colosseum of Fools, but she might as well be a baby filorial throwing a temper tantrum.
On that thought, considering how hard Firo to kick her into a fruit stand back in Trumpet… an actual angry filorial is more threatening than Nikos.
"So don't let her, or anyone get you down. And make you think you aren't good enough. You hear me?!" The voice of the former gladiatrix becomes more severe near the end. Presumably, she is worried that her word isn't getting to the son of ArchDuke Wales.
"...Yes." After a few moments of failed struggle and grimace, Jaune gives up on trying to sort out the misunderstanding between the two redheads before him. " Thank you for your encouragement… Sister Nikos."
"Good. Go have your rest, Jau- Brother Arc." The former gladiatrix also seems to realize the overly familiar way she is addressing the noble scion. "You need a full eight hours of sleep for your arm to heal. I don't want you giving Consevatie more excuses to put you down, when the High Overseer asks why your arm is still in a sling tomorrow."
"Yes, you are right. I need to have this healed up to help the people here." Jaune places his good hand on his hurt shoulder, his face scrunches up a little in pain. He gives another long look between the two young women in front of him before leaving. "Don't cause problems to Miss Mein, Sister Nikos."
"I won't." The Zeltbole native gives a sickeningly sincere reply back to the Arc Scion as she watches him slowly retreat and disappear into the ruin of Port Harp city. She turns around and narrows her eyes at the princess in disguise once again. The gesture is almost cute, if it's not thoroughly annoying. "I don't know what your game is. But I'm not letting you manipulate Jau- Brother Arc. If you want to elevate your social status through him, you picked the wrong target."
Did the former battle whore of the Zeltbole savages mistaken her for some village girl social climbers, or linestealers? On the one hand… the princess is glad there's less people who can leak her true identity to the Shield Hero. But the audacity of this… this harlot!
Having someone like Kyubey, a mal-born demi-human former slave pity her is one thing. Being sneered at by a former Zeltbole battle whore isn't something she's going to turn the other cheek for.
"As if you have any right to say it, gladiatrix!" Mein can't help but scoff at the woman. Using the more derogatory term of Nikos' former occupation just to spit the other redhead more. "Think you are fooling anyone with your sweet damsel and noble knightess act around the Arc scion? If there's anyone trying to ensnare him to fit in with the noble ladies, it's you! What? The scantily clad and muscle bound hooligans of Zeltbole aren't making your knickers wet enough, so you aim for a Melromarc noble boy? Why don't you take him to one of your execution celebrations, and see how much he likes to see you zap a prisoner and slowly fry him to death?"
"That's what all you civilized Melromarc people see, when you learnt I was a colosseum grand champion, isn't it? Some shameless, faithless young woman dressed in scraps of armor, showing off my skin to hungry crowds to earn a living. Or an insane, bloodthirsty psycho who worships the Wrath Lord?" Nikos glares at the princess in full force, her teeth obviously gritted. "Have you ever used your more sophisticated head to ever consider, that maybe the reason I quit was because I don't want to worship the Chief God as the Wrath Lord, and I joined the Three Heroes' Church because I liked him as the God of Mercy better!?"
Nikos is showing the anger befitting a worshiper of the Wrath Lord she is ironically looking down. Yet, the princess notices something underneath. The kind of desperation to hold onto something, and never letting it go. Similar to a lost, and wandering bonedog kicked out of its pack, and desperately holding onto a piece of broken bone.
Despite being the first born princess of glorious Melromarc, Mein knows that feeling all too well. Perhaps she has more in common with Nikos than being a redhead. "I bet Jaune doesn't see you as one. He has a habit of seeing the best in other people, even when it doesn't exist."
"That's right!" The former colosseum champion eagerly agrees with Mein, completely missing how some random commoner adventurer shouldn't know Jaune this well. "That's why… even if I'm not good enough for Jau- Brother Arc, I won't let him get put down and abused by other people. Because someone as good as him deserves better!"
"Then you better hold onto him, and never let go." Mein walks forward and grabs Nikos' shoulders with firm hands. She clearly surprised the other redhead, as the Zeltbole native gladiator actually stumbled on her feet by Mein's gesture. "Because you are right, someone as good as him deserves better. But this world is much more cruel than he is, and it chews up nice people like him. Don't ever let him go."
Like I did.
The princess gives Nikos one last pat on her shoulder and pulls away. Walking back towards where the Shield Hero made camp. Her body still feels heavy, but she feels light enough to fall asleep now.
"I, I didn't need you to tell me THAT!" As Mein approaches the ruined shakes of Port Harp, she can hear Nikos' cry behind her.
The night passes without any event. It's almost disappointing in that regard, considering there is a Siltvelt Emissary (War) party, and a large contingent of the Three Heroes' Church presence camping in the same city. But for the most part, glaring at each other seems to be the extent of escalation both sides are willing to go.
The next morning comes quickly and without any fanfare. As their unofficial Siltvelt escort assembles, it's time to finally say goodbye to Eclair and her now undead bodyguard.
"So… I guess this is goodbye." Naofumi takes his helmet off briefly, and runs his hand through his messy hair. "Sorry for what happened to your… well, everything. I know it's only been a week or so, but it's going to feel weird without you."
"What happened to my family and home is a shame, nothing more." The last living Seaetto also has her pot helmet back on, considering she is supposed to be condemned… and dead. And she's definitely among the unfriendly party. "I will rejoin you when everything is put back to order, Sir Shield Hero."
Silence hangs between them both, Raphtalia walks over and gives Eclair a hug, which the knight returns. She pulls away from Raphtalia and looks at the princess in disguise. "Before you depart, may I have a moment with… Miss Mein?"
So, this is going to be the moment when chips fall down. Considering how she's responsible for destroying Eclair's ancestral home… the princess really can't blame the knight for wanting to jam a sword through her jaw. She would definitely do the same, if their roles are reversed.
"Of course. You were closest to Mein." Naofumi turns towards the princess and gives her a nod. Knowing there's not much else she can do than facing the music, Mein steps forward. She notices as the two of them walk further, Lucatiel positions herself between them and the Shield Hero's party. She can feel the heat of death glare from the death knight.
There's not much she can do to stop them from getting over her, since she is only one man. But she can definitely delay them long enough to give Eclair time to knock her down. The princess in disguise turns around to face Eclair, resigning herself to her fate. "Just so you know, I would totally understand if you want to punch me in the face."
"What?!" The last surviving Seaetto nearly jumps on her feet. It's like she's surprised at Mein's suggestion. "Why would I want to hit you? I… I never apologized for my behavior back in the Catacombs."
"What?" It's Mein's term now to be confused. "What do you have to apologize for?"
"You saved my life when I was facing off against… Father. And instead of feeling grateful, I snapped at you." The knight's feet shuffled as her head dipped down. "I never thanked you for saving my life."
"It's fine. You weren't in the right mind back then. No one can fault you for it. But…" Now that the dishonored knight pointed it out, the princess admits she did have a point.
In fact, it's a wonder how she herself didn't think of it, as normally she would constantly remind one of her lady 'friends' for such behaviors. Blackmail material doesn't foster goodwill, but in terms of political resources they are as good as favors. Still, what Eclair did pales in comparison to her own mess ups.
"You aren't mad at me for destroying your ancestral home?"
"It's a shame what happened to my ancestral home, but I think it was for the best." Eclair's reply makes Mein blink her eyes in further confusion. How can the loss of one of the most ancient castles be a good thing? "Our heritage from the old Boletaria royalty is a great prestige, but also a great burden to my family. And I think that … Now it's causing more harm than good. In a way, you freed me from that burden. No matter what I do in the future, it'll be my own choice. Not choices made because I want to live up to the past."
"What about its strategic value?" The princess may not be some military genius, but she certainly didn't sleep through all her lessons. "Surely a castle city on the side of Griffin's Spine is a great defense against northern incursions."
"Wolf's Mouth has taken over the role of Boletaria Castle." Now with Eclair bringing it up, the princess has to admit the fort she mentioned serves as a much better choke point on the mountain range. "Sure, it can serve as a secondary defense line if Wolf's Mouth falls. But my father… Maybe even my grandfather should have moved our seat of power to Port Harp after its development. If they did… maybe Father and our knights would still be alive, not having to split up and defend two locations."
The knight's hand tightens around the bronze sword of her ancestor. "I haven't been able to hear my ancestor's voice after the catacomb … guess he needs to rest and gather his strength now the veil between the Pale World is back with full force. But I can still sense a vague feeling of him approving my decisions."
Mein briefly, not without a sense of malice, wonders if Eclair is simply projecting her own feelings onto her ancestor's sword to justify her own decisions.
"I don't know how long it'll take. I don't know if I can even make a name for myself without the prestige of my family name." The knight's head slowly rises up. Even with the helmet obstructing her face, Mein can feel Eclair's eyes fixed on her. "But I will return to you. If I do make something of myself, or if you ever need help. Because I need to repay you for all the things you have done for me, encouraging me to keep going and not give up. If you'll have me, I'll be proud to call you my friend, my princess."
Friend… not a childhood playmate father arranged for her, who she planned to sabotage from the start because they can easily turn into her rivals. Or a tentative ally she needs to constantly keep an eye on. But someone she can actually trust.
It may not be so bad after all.
"I will be honored."
Omake: Trial of the Shield Heir
Lord Lucius Abraxus Malfoy, head of the most ancient and noble house of Malfoy, heir to the First Shield Hero slowly, and gracefully, walks towards the Hall of the Lords with a small contingent of guards escorting him. Both to keep him safe… and to keep an eye on him considering his past involvement in the Secret House War from twenty five years ago.
There's a sense of irony in this situation, but he did not laugh, or even smirk at the uneasy looking guards. As the true heir to the First Shield Hero before he went renegade, Malfoy always held himself to the highest standard.
The guards standing in front of the door tighten their hands on their muskets when they see him approaching. After a few moments when he comes to a rest and stands perfectly still, they seem comfortable enough to finally open the double doors.
The Hall of the Lords isn't as gaudy in its decoration as the Hero Academy. Instead of gold, silver, bronze, and obsidian thrown around with reckless abandon, sapphires, emeralds, topaz and rubies shine like the starlight of the night, as it's mostly constructed out of cooled down dragon blood: granite stone. With furniture made out of golden ancient holywood to give it more color and flare.
It's less about dazzling excitable and impressionable children, and more about housing mature adults for serious discussions and trials, after all.
Well… mostly mature adults. There are always a few cases where the body outgrows the mind.
"Lord Lucius of House Malfoy." The lord of House Malfoy looks up at the podium when he hears the speaker address him.
Neither King Egbert of Faubley, nor his regent Lord Dumbledore preside over it. No doubt to the old mountain goat's charring. As they are both at Cal Mira Island, tied up with the political storm cooked up by Melromarc.
In their absence, Ian Staut, second son of the Princely House Staut, the Hall Speaker takes the role at addressing the lords. "You were dispatched to represent Noble Faubley in your diplomatic mission to Melromarc, negotiating the release of summoned heroes to the other nations. Yet while you were on your diplomatic mission, an incident occurred, resulting in the death of High Inquisitor Emon and his entire retinue. Is it correct?"
"Unfortunately, that is correct. My fellow lords and ladies." Lord Malfoy fixes his eyes on the hall speaker. Not bothering to look through, or try to listen to the whispers of the crowd. "I have assigned Knight Captain Guiche De Gramont of Ondine Order to help the investigation before leaving Melromarc, and he has dispatched a runner with a detailed report to me prior to my arrival in Faubley city."
"What is the verdict?" The ever stoic Staut son asks, barely even blinking his eyes.
"Lord Inquisitor Emon was given misinformation, possibly in bad faith, by one of the Bow Hero's companions to pit himself against the Shield Hero. The perpetrator happens to be one of Queen Mirellia's knights. The investigation is inconclusive, if Bow Hero himself was directly involved with the possible conspiracy, considering his young age, and brief window of time he had to adjust to this world…" Lucius pulls out the scroll from his robe, and reads over the report. The whispers grow ever louder.
"...Despite the circumstance, Lord Emon was given numerous chances to stand down by the Heroes even after he ordered the murder of a Melromarc civilian. But he chooses to fight to the death, and was put down by the Bow Hero to stop him from murdering a young boy by ten summers. Therefore, the only fair conclusion I can draw was that he himself was most responsible for his own death. Signed, Guiche Chevalier De Gramont, fourth of his name. Knight of Bronze, Commander of the Ondine Order."
The whispers in the hall turn to silence as Lord Malfoy hands in his report to one of the valets. Who quickly walks over and hands the piece of document to a team of examiners, looking it over for signs of possible tampering and forgery.
"That's a load of bull and you know it!" Lord Malfoy, and many other House Heads turn their attention towards the accusation. To the surprise of no one, the speaker who disrupted an otherwise solemn investigation has a mop of messy black hair and a pair of glasses on his nose. "Someone from the Order of Shield found the Shield Hero innocent in a bloody murder!? Who would have thought!"
Despite being a top hit wizard of noble Faubley's mage knight, Lord James Potter, descendant of the First Sword Hero, still hasn't done anything in his adult life to overshadow his status of the legendary runner for the Order of Sword's Slaughter Ball team back in the Hero Academy.
He could simply stay quiet, and let the boy stuck in an adult's body make a fool of himself. But then again… it'll work to his advantage stating all the facts. "I specifically tasked Knight Captain Gramont, a graduate from the Order of the Sword, as the head of investigation instead of my fellow Order of Shield Lords. Does that answer your question, Lord Potter?"
'BAH! Everyone knows that manwhore can't find his head out of his ass if he has a girl to squeeze! He's a stain to my order!" Lucius nearly loses his composure and raises one of his eyebrows looking at the accuser. Lord Sirius Black, one of the most devoted lackeys to Lord Potter. Also, one of, if not the most notorious manwho- heartbreaker extraordinaire back in the Hero Academy.
"And who knows if the reports you brought back are genuine in the first place! You might very well have tampered it, or forged it." Lord Potter leans back into his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest with an arrogant smirk. "You filthy shields are always the same - sniveling and scheming to help each other."
"I beg you pardon, Lord Potter?" Duke Charles 'Long Legs' Dance Von Balveproven shoots his good-son a warning glare. A gesture that would send genuine fear to anyone short of the most brave… or the most foolhardy. Despite his voice lower than Lord Potter, everyone's eyes immediately focus on the de facto head of the Order of the Shield graduates.
"You heard what I said the first time, 'Old Lion'." The foolish youth turns his nose up at his good-father, even using one of his more derogatory titles. "Is age finally catching up to you?"
No doubt, countless generations of Potter Lords and Ladies are collectively spinning in their family catacomb's resting places for the poor performance of their latest House Head. None would be more so than Duke James' parents, Lord Filiamont 'Monty' Potter and Lady Euphemia Potter.
Lord Monty made the correct decision to sponsor the then relinquished Lord (by title only) Arthur Weasley as the next department head of the newly established Department of Technomancy after himself. While Lucius doesn't see eye to eye with Lord Weasley on most issues, he can at least respect the man for supporting the reforms brought along through technomancy to further elevate Noble Faubley's power.
Especially who the man ends up working with most of the time.
"The report is genuine, and free of tampering or forgery. Lords and Ladies." The most senior master looks up and nods at the Hall Speaker before Lucius can lose himself in his own musing. "The handwriting is no doubt that of Commander Gramont."
"WHAT?! That can't be true! You didn't look hard enough!" The smug smile on Lord Potter's face is gone, as he jumps up from his seat and roars at the examiners. "There's no way those filthy shields didn't-"
"Behave yourself! Lord Potter!" A seasoned voice cut through the Hall of the Lords and immediately gathered everyone's attention much like Lord Charles did a few moments ago. "Sit down, and be quiet before you shame the Order of THE Sword, and your family name any further!"
James Potter may fancy himself as a major power, if not the head of the Order of the Sword. Considering he is the descendant of the First Sword Hero. But anyone with half a brain knows the real control of the Swords belongs to the head of the princely House Tasmeria, Lady Arya Von Tasmeria.
King Egbert may be everyone's liege by birthright, and Regent Dumbledore fancies himself the mastermind behind the throne. But all the fellow lords and ladies know Noble Faubley's strength (and the fact it hasn't collapsed under its own weight yet) comes from their uncrowned king and queen: Duke Charles and Princess Arya.
"Bu- but how can you side with the filthy shield!?"
"We aren't in school anymore, Lord Potter." The elderly princess fixes her glare on the manchild of House Potter, making the boy shivers. "You aren't earning points, or any favors playing order politics. Sit down, and behave yourself before I invite you to leave the room."
The head of House Potter sits down, his head hanging low like a filorial who crossed the finish line in last place.
"Now that that's settled," Duke Charles turns his attention to Arch-Vicar Lutasha, head of the Four Heroes' Church. "I'm afraid none of us are overly familiar with Lord Emon aside from his reputation as a dedicated hunter of illegal slavers. Is what reported seems to be in line with his character, and behavior? Your Holiness?"
"Ah yes. That is very unfortunately true." The overweight man wipes some sweat off his head as he looks down from his seat. "I have often chastised Emon for his inflexibility. He always means well, but his actions can cause more harm than good. And it looks like it's finally caught up to him, and took his life. Such a shame, such a shame…"
Lucius smirks inside, despite keeping his neutral expression on his face. The Arch-Vicar is a clever man, and he'll be receiving an anonymous donation to his personal vault very soon.
"Then I believe we have our final verdict." Lord Charles gives a nod to Lady Arya, he receives the same nod in return. "Emon's death was his own undoing. And neither the Bow, or the Shield Hero will suffer any penalties on account of both their inexperience, and doing everything they can be expected to de-escalate the situation. They will receive our support… as soon as Melromarc releases their grasp on them."
"Same thing can not be said for the royal house of Melromarc, however. As the one inciting the whole incident was both knighted, and serves the royal family. It is clear that further attempts were made by the Melromarc royal family to isolate the Cardinal Heroes from the rest of the world." Princess Arya takes over from Lord Charles. "Melromarc continued to exist after The Great War, because we allowed it to exist. And they have repaid our leniency with nothing but treachery. They will pay full reparations for Emon, and his retinue's death. As well as handing over the culprit to Faubley to be prosecuted as per Faubley law… or risk a war against us."
The elderly woman's face slowly filled with fury, almost making her look beastly. "And this time, we shall not accept His Majesty's attempt at waiving away their continued provocations. Even if the harlot opens her leg for her dear 'Cousin Bert', like His Majesty always wanted, Noble Faubley isn't the property of House Faubley alone."
"Don't be too hard on King Egbert. I'd forgive her too, if I got a piece of that smoking heated arse." Lord Potter snickers under his breath, but it's still loud enough for everyone to hear.
Not that anyone is keen to defend the Boar of Melromarc's honor from Princess Arya's wrath.
"Yeah, lucky old fucks. Him and her husband." Lord Black joins a quick head bump with his brother in anything but blood. "Bet the two of us can make that vixen squeal louder than those two old fucks."
"I trust there is no objection to the verdict, Lord Malfoy?" Lady Arya casts a threatening stare down from her high seat at Lucius.
As if he has any vested interest for the Boar of Melromarc's well being. Sure, her husband was from his own school order, and shields should always stand united. But the order's loyalty only goes so far, especially since the man in question betrayed their hero in the first place.
"There is none - the Hall of the Lords ruled with fairness and honor." Lucius holds his head high as he looks back at Princess Arya. "The witch will face just punishment for her treachery."
End Note:
So, one day I asked Commissar Gaunt if Tywin Lannister is roughly based on Edward 'Long Shanks'. And he answered me yes, but he is more similar to the fictional version from Braveheart than the real historical one (and apparently Allfuck Snivelcunt- I mean Ulfric Stormcloak is roughly based more closely to real life William Wallace, who was apparently a maniac who committed many war crimes?). So for knock off Chinese Tywin Lannister, I decided to have him known as 'Long Legs'. Since for human in this story, being compared to animal is more derogatory in this story because of the exist of beastman. I don't think knock off Tywin would take it more kindly, if people go around calling him 'Old Lion'.
And speaking of prejudice... this chapter shows how there are still prejudice and discrimination existing between human of different nations (kind of already introduced this idea, with how I shown Melromarc people don't think so highly of the 'Faupigs'), even if fantastical racism is more prominent. Because I think realistically, prejudice exist because people want to feel superior about themselves over others. So racism between human would still exist even if there are another competing sentient species present.
This chapter is pretty much the emotional culmination of the whole Eclair family heirloom arc, where Malty has many emotional confrontations with multiple characters. I honestly didn't even expect her scene with Jaune (and Pyrrha) would have taken as long as it did when first writing the chapter. But I think it fits. As I made it canonical to my story that these two used to have an amicable relationship together, and Malty only broke it because she has stronger ambition than marrying the youngest son of a noble family.
Not sure if I succeeded at showing there had been genuine affection between these two in the past, as I'm extremely aromantic in real life. But in this chapter, Malty essentially says goodbye to her romantic relationship of her past.