"It is a pity you cannot be her body guard," Duchess Claes said over lunch. "It would certainly give you the time to teach her propriety."

"Alas, I have recently entered into a new venture in partnership with another lady," Maria said as she dined. "Combined with my new responsibilities at my estate, I fear I would now make either a poor guard or a poor liege lady."

"A missed opportunity," Duchess Claes lamented.

"The past is ash," Maria said, "and we can only walk with eyes open into an Age of Dark, where all things are unknown."

"You study the classics?" Duchess Claes said in surprise. "That is an obscure quote."

"I have an interest in what came before," Maria said. "How else are we to know what we build the future upon?"

How could she not, when this world she had been reborn in was so fundamentally different from the one in which she had died and died? She had read of ancient myths, of more recent legend, of memory and history, trying to understand this world of thin blood, magic and powerful souls. As with all history, texts were written long after the fact, sources argued and brought their biases into their writing, it was hard to divide fiction and history, and the world mentioned at times seemed to be completely geographically impossible. Some sources, for instance, say the land of Drangleic was built on the ruins of Anor Londo, while others said that Anor Londo had never fallen and Drangleic had been across the ocean.

If nothing else, she'd gotten a lot of pithy quotes out of it, and could recognize when others made such references, at least. Professor Vaati at the academy seemed to love filling his speech with such. It seemed recognizing historical in-jokes was considered some sort of mark of learned academia. Well, better that than madness.

Over dessert, a simple chocolate cake with strawberries and jam, they discussed smaller things of little import, such as Countess Ascart's upcoming birthday, Lady Berg's new and borderline improper affectionate closeness with her fiancée, the effect of the sea monster migrations on the price of fish, and the weather.

Eventually, they moved to a new setting, a balcony overlooking a garden. The irony was not lost on her. Tea was served. Maria was amused to note that many plots, rather than containing flowers, contained crops.

"Katarina?" she said, gesturing towards the vegetables.

Duchess Claes sighed. "Yes," she said tiredly.

Maria wanted to pat the woman in the shoulder. She suspected she might even get away with it. but it would be improper.

"I apologize if you already know," Maria said, "but at the Academy, it is whispered that the Third Prince intends to wed Lady Claes as soon as they both graduate."

Duchess Claes actually looked surprised at the news. "So soon?" she said. "But that's only a few months away! He has not even asked for our approval." She clearly disapproved at the outrageous notion.

"Hmm…" Maria said. "If it helps, Lady Claes is still saying that she is merely a temporary fiancée to ward away prospective suitors while the prince seeks his true love. So she is clearly not in agreement with this plan."

Maria sipped her tea as Duchess Claes' hand met her face.

"This tea is excellent, by the way," Maria said politely. It could use a little blood, but then again, everything could.

"They must not be wed. Something must be done to stop it!" Duchess Claes declared after she'd finally come up for air.

"That would, at best, be a temporary measure," Maria said. "The Third Prince is not the only one who harbors insatiable lust towards Lady Claes, after all."

Duchess Claes grimaced, but reluctantly nodded. Maria wondered who she was thinking of. Her son? Lady Hunt?

"And that's not even getting into all those who would move against her if they thought it would clear a path either to the Third Prince, or as leverage to make him abdicate in favor of the other princes," Maria noted, then paused. "Well, probably not Prince Alan. He has more followers for his music than his politics. They'd probably move to keep him from the throne and continuing to compose."

"If only Katarina could join the Ministry," Lady Claes bemoaned. "Her employment would be an acceptable way of delaying any union for almost indefinitely, especially if she were a valuable member. But…"

"It's Katarina," they sighed, and sipped from their tea, both wishing it was something stronger.

"Even if she DID join the Ministry, her person would still need to be protected," Maria said. "Improper or not, she is much admired, and that admiration could sink into a terrible abyss. After all, forcing wedlock upon her by… means… is a path open to many, be they so bold or foolish."

"Yes, the more I consider it, the more I agree she requires a body guard," Duchess Claes said. "Are you sure you cannot do so? She actually listens to you." There was some bitterness at those words.

"Only because I threaten her with her desires," Maria said.

Duchess Claes blinked at that. "Explain," she said.

"When I was a commoner, she grew fond of the sweets I baked, as I believe they reminded her of the sweets your kitchens would provide her, and they reminded her of home in a new and distant place," Maria said. "I threatened to deprive her of them to teach her to modify her behavior towards propriety."

"Somehow, I am not surprised," Duchess Claes said tiredly. "I should be, but I am not. Have I become blind and complacent, Lady Campbell? Has Sorcier truly become so dark as the time before myth, that my daughter must be protected so?"

Maria thought of people wallowing in their own filth, left in the dark of a locked barn. "Evil grows in surprising places," she said, "but offhand, I think this is merely another unique problem that Lady Claes gives rise to just by being herself."

Duchess Claes sighed. "She used to be such a proper girl," she said longingly. "Always seeking to please me."

Maria thought of two strangers living in the same house, and of a girl who had not yet had a month of nightmares. "People change. It is part of growing up, that our Dark Souls grows beyond the parts we received from our forebears. Would you bind her in a circle of fire, depriving her of what she could be for merely what you wish her to be? For imagination is a strangely limited thing. What we imagine lies beyond the horizon unseen often pales beside what is truly there. Take heart that all she is, all she will be, grew from what you gave her. Besides, is she not of the blood of House Adeth, as you are? Is not Duchess Adeth and her daughters known for their smile?"

Duchess Claes blinked at this, as if seeing something for the first time. Tentatively, she raised a hand to her face.

+3 Insight


Millidiana Claes would be the first to admit she was an orthodox thinker. Not an unimaginative thinker, merely one whose view of the world is shared by many.

Yet something seemed to shift in her mind, as if the reminder that her daughter was part of a legacy beyond just her and her contributions opened new eyes that had once been closed, eyes on the inside of her mind that saw in new angles and new colors.

"It occurs to me," she said slowly, "that Katarina is almost completely unfamiliar with her family in the Duchy of Hasard. Perhaps this should be corrected. While we visited once or twice when she was young, since her engagement to the prince she was been more or less completely been cut off from contact."

By design. She did not want her family to realize that she was such a failure of a mother she had raised an improper child. But…

"If I recall correctly, the Duchy of Hasard is some distance from the capital," Lady Campbell said. "At least two days ride. And there are many important towns along the path that serve as mercantile hubs, so with unfavorable traffic, it could take as many as four days."

Lady Campbell maintained a smooth face, as if she were a polished porcelain doll, but Mili, as the duchess was known to her friends, could see her eyes. Lady Campbell showed her emotions in her eyes, and right now they twinkled with consideration and cunning, the same cunning she had shown all through this day. She knew Lady Campbell had guided their conversations. But Lady Campbell knew she knew. It was merely noble intrigued. Good noble intrigue, that rare form that left those being used with no hard feelings, for it had merely been a convincing argument that they ally in mutual interest. Had this young woman really been born a commoner? A waste, had she merely remained so.

"Longer," Mili said. "With summer comes the rains. The roads would be bogged in mud, and the journey would take over a week. One would have to stay a month or two just to make the trip worthwhile."

"A definite stopgap," Lady Campbell said. "But in aid of what? What can be done before her welcome runs out? Mere distance will not cool his royal vanguard. If anything, it will drive him to greater heights of persistence. And not merely he."

"It will give you time to prepare," Mili said.

Lady Campbell blinked. "I, your grace? What am I to do?"

Mili told her.

By the end, Lady Campbell was staring contemplatively in her cup. "It will take a long time," Lady Campbell said.

"Years," Mili said, a predatory grin that suited her eyes gracing her face. She was not to know that she greatly resembled her daughter when she did, and her smile was not as predatory as she thought. "Three at the least, possibly longer."

Lady Campbell nodded. "And it would allow me to protect her," she said. "Until she can protect herself. I must caution you, Lady Claes is defensive by inclination. I do not think she would be capable of harming another, wielding a blade in anger."

"She doesn't have to," Mili said.

Lady Campbell nodded. "Of course, if I also used this time to teach her propriety, it would take longer," she said.

"Even more years," Mili said, her unknowing resemblance to her daughter growing with her smile.

"And if one tries to dishonor her, even in the tragedy they succeed," Lady Campbell said, and now a smile curved that porcelain face, more true than her polite ones of social lubrication, "even if it is a prince… I can kill them."

"With my blessing," Mili said. "Strike whoever it may be. The might of Claes shall stand at your back should any disagree."

"A query, your grace," Lady Campbell said. "If, for some reason, another prince, such as Prince Ian, is chosen to take the throne so wanted. Katarina would no longer be fated to be queen. Were that the case, would you withdraw your objection to the Third Prince's suit? The engagement is not tied to his rise, after all."

Mili paused. It was actually a good question.

She remembered what she thought was a loveless marriage, of pain when there shouldn't have been.

"If she loves him," she was surprised to find herself saying. "Whatever happens, I merely want my daughter to be happy. Better happy than proper. I will not presume to dictate to her what she feels."

Lady Campbell nodded solemnly. Mili felt as if she had passed some sort of test. "And if she would be like the old, fallen king, of insatiable hedonism and lust?"

This morning, Mili would not have allowed a mere knight, no matter how indebted she was to them, to ask such a presumptuous question. It had been a long day. "Then I would have… words, with her. Though you know it will not be. Why ask such a silly thing?"

"To make the next question easier," Lady Campbell said. "And if she would love more than one?"

"Then she will learn how to run a household," Mili said, sighing. "For loving more than one is how a family should be, is it not?"

Other Houses might favor one child or another, or consider some expendable or merely to be married off… but not the Adeth. Despite having been born shy, with a face that looked as if she were scoffing at everyone, so different that she could have been a bastard, her family had never treated her like a bother, never looked down on her and treated her with scorn. They had been kind to her, supported her, stood up for her to any who offered her insult. And despite the sly remarks that father had been cuckolded, he had never once treat her as anything but his beloved daughter.

And she had repaid them with distant letters as she thought her husband didn't love her, and silence when her daughter had begun to act improper. She had been ashamed, she told herself, of raising such an unbecoming child.

Now, with new eyes opened within her, she wondered if the shame had come from betraying her family's love, of judging her daughter as they had not judged her.

"Your grace?" her visitor said, reminding her she was not alone. "Are you well? May I offer you Light Magic, if you are pained? "

She shook her head. The porcelain doll's face was a smooth as ever, but real concern showed in her eyes. "I am well, Lady Campbell. A passing thought."

Lady Campbell nodded. "The day grows long, your grace. With your permission, I will begin preparations."

As she said this, something struck Mili. "What can Claes offer you in return, for what you will do? For what you have done for us already? How may we thank you?" It would be crass to offer wealth or land directly, but for such as this, a little of the latter or a lot of the former was understood to be–

For once, confusion filled both face and eyes as Lady Campbell tilted her head. "Why?" she said.

Mili frowned. "For saving Katarina. For this protection to come."

"You need not offer me anything," Lady Campbell said. "Even thanks are too much. I only did as I said I would in saving her. What is to come is no different. After all, I gave my word."

And suddenly, Mili understood what Artie had felt, when he had knighted this strange young woman, giving paltry recognition of the nobility that was in her already.

+1 Insight

"I… see…" Mili said. "Then I withdraw my offer, Lady Campbell. But if ever you need aid, know you may come to House Claes and we will shelter you against any force that pursues or torments. Even for treason, even from the kingdom itself. You have my word."

The porcelain doll shattered as raw shock filled the woman before her. Her mouth hung open as it mouthed the word 'treason' several times, seemingly unable to believe.

+10 Insight

Smoothly, Mili rose with a smirk that had much in common with her daughter's mischievous smiles, though she knew it not. "A good day and safe journey to you, Lady Campbell," she said, and strode out serenely.

In her study, she called her secretary, a dear and trusted friend, and had her start drafting a note of transfer of a large sum of souls to Lady Campbell. Just because the young woman was too noble to ask for money didn't mean she wasn't getting it.

Then she sat and pondered and finally, with great reluctance but greater determination, she began to pen a letter to the house of Adeth, in the Duchy of Hasard.