Katarina managed to remember she was in public and ate her dinner in a way appropriate to her station—even if she ordered three more servings before she was full, to no one's surprise, not even the castle's staff—allowing Maria to grudgingly admit that this likely was her squire and not a fake. Very few could eat that much without becoming ill or growing a belly to rival the traditional armor of Catarina.
After dinner, they retired to Maria's room. Or rather, Maria and Katarina went to the room they shared, and everyone else followed along. Maria was able to get to know Katarina's other cousins on the way. They were, like Dame Matthew, pleasant and well-behaved young ladies, and were well-versed in medicine. Maria had an interesting conversation with them about medicinal magic and the efficacy of protective cloth wraps in preventing airborne disease.
With so many of them, the room was rather cramped. Fortunately, there was just enough room for them to set up various pretend scenarios, like what title Katarina had to use to refer to members of foreign nobility of various countries and how deeply she was to curtsy.
"I'm pretty sure they don't curtsy in Xiarmah," Katarina said.
"Yes, but we're in Sorcier," little Shana said authoritatively. "So our customs have some precedent."
"But if it's like that, why do we need to know what they do in other countries?" Katarina asked, confused.
"Because everyone wants to do it their own way, so everyone has to know how to use everyone else's etiquette or else they'll claim to be insulted and ask for special favors like spoiled brats."
Maria and Mary shared a look, both slightly aghast and just a little proud at the little girl's masterly understanding of international politics.
Over the next few days, Maria was able to relax as she realized that her squire had not, in fact, actually been replaced by an impostor. While her new capacity to be able to recite the histories, current internal political situation, and external political interactions bordered on actually being as competent as expected of someone of her rank, it was still quite idiosyncratically Katarina-like. For example, while she was able to happily recite the chain of events that led to the the formation of the Assembly, including the various inciting factors the lecturer discussed and the all the names of the people involved… she was completely unable to give any of the important dates.
"Eh, it doesn't matter," her squire dismissed. "Caring about the dates is only for tests and teachers!"
Maria… couldn't really disagree with that reasoning.
On the second day of the lectures, the subject was the Republic of La Sable. It was known across the continent as a lawless and corrupt place, with rampant crime, violence was common, smuggling was everywhere, full of slavers and human trafficking at the best of times. After the civil war a generation ago, it had supposedly gotten worse. While the government controlled the capital, most of the cities, and several major towns, many places were left to govern themselves with only minimal support from the republic, if at all. The more Maria heard, the more appalled she became. Surely this was how things had been in the past, and that the country had now recovered to a sensible state?
It was practically a joke of a country, barely surviving on aid from the other states around it, but it was still a country. The government existed, collected taxes, maintained a non-nonexistent amount of order, maintained infrastructure—"Though all costs are inflated and part of the souls are pocketed by various officials involved"—and most important, maintained an army. Some of that army were actually knights, though few reputable covenants had a major presence in La Sable. There were the Warriors of the Sun, of course, but they were a pale shadow of themselves compared to their presence in other countries.
The Abyss Watchers were present as well, a necessity given how such rampant humanity could well cause an appearance of the Abyss, grudgingly tolerated by the government and serving as one of the few stabilizing influences, especially since their approach to their own internal corrupting was for a thorough examination of the evidence, an intense trial, and, if proven guilty, the very messy execution of the convicted individual by being turned on by every other member of the covenant that could make the date of execution.
"Such convictions are rare, however," Professor Vaati related. "Sadly more common are attempts to frame members of the covenant for corruption. In which case, the one slandered watches as those responsible faces the wrath of their brothers and sisters in the covenant in jolly cooperation…"
Maria was left with the impression that the actual truth of the guilt in these cases was often still in question after the fact.
Other covenants were less numerous, and were mainly concentrated in the cities of major town. More darkly numerous were so-called 'recusant' covenants, criminal groups that could range from barely organized killers like the so-called Brotherhood of Blood to very organized hierarchies such as The Manor, who were known to have a hand in La Sable's many criminal endeavors and employed many, many, many disgraced knights.
"Fortunately, these recusant covenants hold little threat to Sorcier. They are often too busy killing each other, or temporarily not killing each other to fight the government of La Sable. Disgusting as many of them are, there are among them who are the only order and protection some parts of the country has from worse depredations, such as ogres, wild dogs, feral rats outcast from The King Below, and the various cat clowders who control significant parts of La Sable's organized crime and have developed a taste for human meat."
The only good news—at least, from Katarina's perspective—was that the relative decay of the country had stripped it of much day-to-day etiquette. With so many in the country regularly well-versed in violence, their society had been stripped of many of the subtle snubs that comprised standard etiquette, as these had become deadly insults answerable by some immediate attack.
Instead, the country had developed many strength displays, some more subtle than others. Keeping a hand on your weapon—and there was no question of anyone not having a weapon visible—among those not close friends or family was considered polite, as you acknowledged the other person was armed and dangerously. Not having your hand on your weapon was considered an insult, as you didn't consider them attacking you something to be worth worrying about. Polite greetings had changed at bows from a distance that, at a glance, could be considered optimal sword range to clasping right hands while your left held your sheathed weapon, to show your attacking hands were both occupied. Additionally, firm grips were used, one of the less subtle strength displays…
There were other gestures, but their relative dearth meant that the afternoon etiquette class finished relatively early.
"I'm never going to La Sable. Please, if I'm ever exiled, don't let it be to La Sable," Katarina shuddered.
"You're not getting exiled, my squire," Maria sighed as she put away her notebook and pens, giving her squire's own untouched but for doodling notebook an accusing glare.
"That's right, Lady Katarina," Sophia said. "One would have to do something incredibly political to be exiled."
"What, like… bullying a prince's lover?"
"Only if the prince were a truly spiteful, black-hearted soul abusing his powers, and the person in question were too well-connected to make executing them viable," Maria said.
Katarina nodded. "Sounds about right," she said.
What a strange thing to say. "Exile is usually given in place of an execution for political reasons. The person exiled is rendered as good as dead in the eyes of the law and in practice, and measures are taken so that they cannot continue to exercise their influence from exile."
Katarina tilted her head, frowning thoughtfully. Maria almost warned her not to strain herself. "Huh… so both endings are basically the same?"
"Essentially," Maria said. "Both remove an unsightly person from the environs. For the people inflicting the punishment, the result is the same. The only difference matters to the person in question."
"I think I'd prefer to be exiled. Just… not to La Sable. That place sounds scary."
Judging from the snippets of conversation around them, rife with distaste and disgust, it was a shared sentiment.
"So… are we going back to our room already?" Katarina said in a tone she probably thought was subtle and probing but just came out wheedling.
Maria turned a stern look her way. "Why?"
"Well… we have time, so… I was hoping we could spar a little?"
Maria raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Eh?" Sophia 'eh'-ed.
"Yup! I mean, I'm still a squire, after all, right?"
"You are, my squire(!-!-!-!-!)," Maria said with perfect poise and dignity. "However, there is the issue of where we shall do so."
"Why not the garden outside our window? No one ever goes out there. Not enough pretty flowers."
Maria, who had no idea how to get to that garden, nodded solemnly. "I see. Well, provided you can find your way to it within the next half hour, then we may do so. Did you bring your training set?"
"Yes, Dame Campbell!" her squire (!-!-!-!-!) chirped.
"Can I come and watch?" Sophia asked. "I promise to be quiet! I just… I've never really seen Lady Katarina practicing knight things before!"
Maria considered the request. "Fine," she relented. "But only if you stay quiet and bring along a book."
"Eh?-! But… what sort of book should I bring?-!"
"I leave it up to you," Maria said dryly.
Maria had half-expected that specifying Sophia bring along a book would paralyze the young woman with indecision, or perhaps she'd suddenly pick up a book and start reading in the midst of trying to decide, but that did not seem to be the case. When Maria and Katarina stepped out of their shared room, the latter in her squire set with her hair pulled back, the former in her hunter's leathers, they found Sophia with a, for her, small stack of books in her arms. Which meant that it didn't quite rise up high enough to block off the scaleless young woman's view.
"All right, follow me," Katarina said, her shield, strangely shaped personal sword, practice sword and her large wooden practice greatsword on her back as she led the way… in the completely opposite direction of the garden in question. Rather than going south and down, they went north and up.
Maria absolutely loathed mythic architecture.
Their path took them, among other places, over the rafters of the main entrance hall, along the rail-less ledge of the lecture hall they had been in earlier up and down some roofs, and along one of the castle parapets, which finally had them walking in what seemed to be the right direction.
"Hey, Dennis, Dean, Theo, Vicky!" Katarina greeted the knights patrolling the ramparts that they passed. The knights in question all nodded to her, their body language amicable. One even waved at them. Maria contented herself with a bow of greeting. "We're just heading down to the garden for some space to train. Is that all right?"
"We have no orders against it, Lady Katarina," one of the black-armored knights said. "Thought tell us if you see anyone suspicious, if you please."
"Don't worry, I will," her squire said cheerfully. "See you all later! Say hi to your wife for me, Vicky!"
They moved on.
Down below, however, something caught Maria's eye, and she slowed. "My squire," she called, staring down at the road below. "Come look at this."
"Hmm?" Katarina 'hmm'-ed as Sophia panted to a halt, still carrying her books. She followed Maria's gaze. "Oh, is that a parade?"
"No squire, a parade takes place in a parade ground. That is a procession."
It wasn't much of one. Besides people clearing the roads, there wasn't much spectacle to it. On the main road leading up to the castle were a formation of knights on horses, riding ahead of several carriages. The knights all wore distinctive white armor, and the banner that their bannerman carried bore the image of a simplified wooden stein overflowing with a sun-gold brew on a black field. At their head rode a figure in armor very like those behind them, save perhaps slightly whiter at this distance. On top of their helm was a simple golden band, the only thing to significantly differentiate them from those behind. Beside them, someone else carried a banner of a simple brown war hammer, the head riddled with cracks, on field of red, surrounded by a border of stylized lightning bolts.
"Oooh," Katarina said. "Onion knights!"
Maria sighed. "Please be more polite to their faces, my squire," she said tiredly. "But yes. Those are knights of New Catarina. And unless I miss my guess, the person at their head is their queen and primary emissary to the Internationally Assembly. Her Majesty, Queen Siegmidala of New Catarina."
