Chapter 1

“As a final note,” Countess Jezne’s voice rolled out from the dais, “Her Excellency the Prime Minister would like to remind everyone that the weekly meeting of the Festival Committee will be held tomorrow morning at the usual time. Today’s session of the House is now adjourned.”

A low murmur filled the air as the assembly started to rise from their seats. Ludmila’s hand shot out to lightly grip Baron Hamel by the collar before he dashed off.

The Lord of Hamel was prone to running down the hallways of the Royal Villa – especially after long sessions of the House of Lords. During those sessions, he fidgeted and squirmed, constantly looked around, and seemed to do everything but pay attention to the proceedings. Ludmila supposed that it was within the range of expected behaviour for a boy in early adolescence, but she also suspected that Lord Hamel was the type to test his limits even under the watchful eye of his noble peers.

As Ludmila ‘walked’ him out of the assembly hall and down the corridor, her friends made small talk with the other Nobles, exchanging pleasantries and discussing various topics of interest appropriate for their setting. No one came to specifically speak with Ludmila, though whether it was due to their usual wariness around her or the risk of having Lord Hamel foisted upon them, she was unsure.

She wasn’t even sure why she was doing what she was doing. Maybe it was because Clara had better things to do than wrangle her restless young neighbour. Or perhaps it was because Count Völkchenheim was the only adult Nobleman in the assembly and he was far too soft to handle Baron Hamel. Ludmila also suspected that the majority of the ladies in the assembly considered her the ‘manliest’ member of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s aristocracy, so dealing with young boys with too much energy and being a role model for them was naturally her job.

Liane suggested that it was an opportunity to ‘put the fear of the gods’ into Lord Hamel: that way, he would defer to Ludmila for the rest of his life.

They made their way out of the Royal Villa, stepping out into the late morning sun. Members of every household patiently awaited their lords and ladies, and Ludmila steered Baron Hamel off to the side. There, the butler of House Hamel lowered his head at her approach.

“Baroness Zahradnik,” the middle-aged man said. “Once again, I cannot express how grateful we are for your care.”

“Once again,” Ludmila replied with a tight smile, “Lord Hamel has escaped.”

House Hamel’s butler blinked several times before twisting around to look for his loose lord. Fortunately for him, the boy was headed to his usual haunt in a garden nearby.

“E-excuse me, my lady,” the butler lowered his head before chasing off after his charge. “My Lord! Lord Hamel!”

Lord Hamel ignored him, preoccupied with calling out to two other Nobles waiting in the garden, Baron Ardoin – who was close to Baron Hamel in age – and Albert Aveline, the new heir apparent of House Jezne. He was a relation brought in from Re-Estize: the scion of some distant cousin separated by generations.

As the boys’ racket rose from the garden, Clara, Liane and Florine came up behind her.

“No wonder that old crank looks even older now,” Liane said. “Was that really all she could find?”

“That she found anyone at all should be counted as a blessing,” Clara said.

“House Jezne is as old as the duchy,” Liane waved a hand dismissively. “They’re a cadet branch of one of House Blumrush’s vassals, too. If she’s picking out of cousins and cousins of cousins, there should be at least two or three hundred candidates. I hear little Lord Jezne’s whole family was brought in. Lucky them.”

The three young nobles continued to play in the garden, their painstakingly arranged outfits falling to shambles. A collection of their maids and footmen looked on worriedly. Ludmila hoped that they wouldn’t look to her to settle them down and send them off.

“How are they adjusting to life in the Sorcerous Kingdom?” Ludmila asked.

“That question takes on a whole other meaning when it’s you asking, Lady Zahradnik,” Liane frowned.

“I haven’t heard anything terrible,” Florine swatted Liane on the arm lightly, “but Lady Jezne’s selection should be the result of careful deliberation. His father was a clerk and his mother was a carpenter. There hasn’t been the tiniest bit of noble education in their family line for generations, but most of her relations out there were probably like that. He should know how to read and write because of his father, but there is a lot to address when it comes to everything else.”

“He is only ten,” Clara said, “so there is time enough.”

“Speaking of which,” Florine said, “are you still instructing Baron Hamel, Lady Corelyn?”

“He seems to be getting to that age,” Clara sighed, “so I thought it would be better that he had a male mentor.”

“Ah~ if he had only acted with more naïveté,” Liane intoned mournfully. “He could have basked in the warmth of the Radiant Jewel for a bit longer.”

Ever since Clara had assumed responsibility for her younger neighbour, she went to instruct him on various aspects of rulership and aristocratic conduct on a semi-regular basis. The results of that education were clearly not on display in the nearby garden, but maybe it would establish itself in time.

They walked over to where their carriages awaited them, climbing into a cabin mounted on one of House Wagner’s newest vehicle frames. Their maids boarded the one behind them, the footmen assumed their positions, and soon they were on their way.

Liane kicked off her shoes and slouched in her seat, stretching in what must have been the most unladylike way possible.

“It’s finally over!” She yawned, “I can’t believe I was looking forward to all that.”

“We all were,” Florine said, “except perhaps Ludmila.”

Ludmila made a face. With the harvest settled, all of E-Rantel’s nobility had come to the city as was their winter custom. Events were discussed, opportunities explored, and social ties reinforced. With many of the houses now being led by women, it had become a strange mixture of the old way of things, when noblewomen worked in the background supporting their houses and territories, and what one might have expected out of the regular winter dealings of Re-Estize lords.

Now that everything had wound down, Ludmila was exhausted. While Undead could not physically tire, mental strain slowly, but surely built up. After two weeks of being ‘Lady Zahradnik’, she could no longer be annoyed at the memory of her father being so curt and communicating in grunts half of the time they were in the city.

“I thought it was very enjoyable and productive,” Clara said.

“Sure,” Liane admitted, “but it was still hell.”

The two-week-long procession of aristocratic functions was concluded with a banquet held at Castle Corelyn. In years previous, events would be held exclusively in the city, but the steadily developing transportation system made getting around the interior of the duchy fast and convenient. What was once a half-day journey from E-Rantel’s southern gate to Corelyn Harbour now only took half an hour.

Ludmila could only discern the most apparent of the purposes that Clara had in hosting the banquet in her new castle. It was a nice place in which to entertain guests and had more than enough room to host the whole of the duchy’s nobility and their staff, but one would be sorely mistaken in thinking that Clara was simply showing off.

Most of the summer’s development of territorial infrastructure had been in Corelyn County. Liane just finished reorganising the administration of her new territory and work on the eastern highway would be underway after the Dwarves returned from their religious observances. Aside from maintenance efforts, the infrastructure in the west remained mostly as it had been when E-Rantel was a territory of Re-Estize.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

One might be tempted to blame the slow acclimation to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s new systems for this, but it could only be called slow in comparison to the progress in Corelyn County. Adoption of the new ways and the changes to provincial life that came with them was proceeding according to the schedule prescribed by the Royal Court, and that schedule would be considered unreasonably ambitious in the neighbouring nations.

Despite this, Clara saw fit to stoke the flames of ambition in the rest of the nobility. Though not a Ranger, she was still a trailblazer: the development of her demesne was a showcase of the future that she was now ready to display to the others.

Unless they were attending their liege’s court, Nobles usually did not visit the fiefs of other Nobles. To most, the reports of Corelyn County were merely impressive words on a page. The ‘banquet’ was an occasion of three days, where the nobles of the realm directly experienced the progress in store for their respective holdings.

They attended presentations and held private meetings in Castle Corelyn in the evenings. The days were spent travelling around the towns and territories to observe various applications of Undead labour, technology and infrastructure. New institutions for basic education and vocational development opened their doors. Liane and Florine had combined their efforts with Clara, and the entire affair became an exposition open to all and sundry.

Representatives of guilds and merchant companies had been there to see what was in the offering and even Demihumans were extended an invitation. By every measure, the event was a success, though whatever plots that Clara had set in motion Ludmila had no idea about. Like the gardener she fancied herself to be, her friend was displaying the fruits of their hard work and sowing new seeds with the expectation that they, too, would sprout and bear fruit of their own.

The shadow of the central district’s southern gatehouse crossed over their carriage, and Ludmila glanced out of the window.

“We’re headed out into the city?”

“It’s nearly lunch,” Liane said.

“You’re addicted to those things,” Florine frowned. “Half of the time I think we set up that stand because you wanted to eat fried potatoes.”

“That might be true,” Liane grinned, “but it also makes money hand over fist. I’m still amazed no one brought it in from the Empire before I decided to. It’s a hundred per cent domestic, too! Wagner’s taters! Katze salt! Corelyn’s beverages! Florine’s fat–ow! Why do you have to hit me like that?”

Considering her friends’ new equipment, Liane shouldn’t have taken any damage from an attack of that magnitude. Maybe it was just an ingrained reaction.

“Why do you have to add my part like that?” Florine fumed.

“At least you have a part,” Ludmila said.

“Hey, now,” Liane said, “the stand is made with wood from your demesne. Ludmila’s lumber.”

Once they had been unofficially informed of their coming transfer under Lady Shalltear’s authority, a strange sort of energy came over Liane. She wanted everyone to do as much together as possible, from casual outings to setting up fried potato stands to collaboration on major ventures. According to Florine, this was ‘normal’ for Liane – the young woman was very attached to her friends and the idea that they would be members of a court of close friends only encouraged her all the more.

Ludmila was not averse to the idea, but she hoped that this relationship would not interfere with their duties. She had no worries about Clara, but the two younger nobles were far more casual in their conduct.

Their carriage rolled into a plaza in the southeastern quarter, where many of E-Rantel’s ‘heavy’ industries were located. Rather than place the stand in the city’s main plaza, it was instead strategically set up in the midst of a demographic that its hearty fare would appeal to.

“Hehehe,” Liane nearly pressed her face into the glass, “look at that line. We didn’t even have to market the stall. All they needed was a good whiff.”

Along with the fried and salted potatoes, meat skewers and liquor were sold, as well as fruity sweets and pastries. It was an irresistible combination for the hard-working tenants of the quarter. Their cabin shifted slightly as several of their footmen dismounted and went to join the line.

“That queue means we’ll be stuck here for a while, as well,” Ludmila noted.

“Nuthin’ wrong with that,” Liane replied. “The harvest is over and all that craziness is behind us. It’s time to relax.”

“You should be the person with the least time to relax,” Ludmila said. “Your workshops are churning out new contraptions every week.”

“Yeah, but that’s research and development. You build things and collect data. Eventually, you build a better thing. Repeat until you get a marketable product. And it isn’t as if I do everything personally.”

Truth be told, that was the case for all of them. They administered their territories, enacted various initiatives, then oversaw things. Nobles were Nobles – they weren’t professional artisans or specialised labourers like Farmers. There was only paperwork and territorial ‘maintenance’ while one waited for results to analyse and act upon.

They still had various other things to do, however. Ludmila had martial matters to attend to, including her work in the Upper Reaches, while her friends had their businesses to run. With the official transfer of their titles to Lady Shalltear would presumably come work for the Ministry of Transportation. Clara also had her colossal project slated to begin after things had settled down.

“What are you doing?”

Ludmila turned her attention from the plaza at Clara’s query. Across the cabin from them, Liane was making strange gestures with a rose-coloured handkerchief.

“You know, the…thing where you send signals. I turned sixteen this summer, y’know – now that things look like they’re going to be fine, I need to pop out some kids.”

“Sixteen is too young to be having a family,” Clara told her.

“To the Six Prude Gods, maybe,” Liane grimaced. “It wouldn’t be considered strange if Florine and I had one or two babies by now. We don’t have to wait until we’re ancient.”

“Twenty is not ancient,” Clara frowned. “There is a very good reason why we wait until we’re twenty.”

Beside Liane, Florine tilted her head curiously.

“There’s a reason? I thought it was just an old tradition.”

Followers of The Four generally conjured up such ‘logic’ when confronted with the tenets of The Six. They carelessly labelled many practises and perceptions of Ludmila’s faith as old-fashioned, arbitrary, nonsensical, and even harmful.

“Waiting until twenty ensures that you’ve had suitable time to figure out what you excel at,” Ludmila told the two noblewomen across from her. “Once your aptitudes are identified, you can look for an ideal partner to maximise your chances of having superior offspring. Nobles, of all people, should understand the importance of familial bloodlines.”

“Ah, there it is,” Liane said. “The ‘bloodline’ thing. I’m not sure what’s worse – those old fogies who go on and on about their blue blood or people who think there’s some tried and true trick to having ‘superior offspring’. Either way, treating women like us as breeding mares…don’t you think that’s messed up?”

The negative connotations that Liane placed on being a ‘breeding mare’ handily summarised the difference between them. For many, being treated as an object or ‘livestock’ was something to be personally insulted over. It might have become a particularly stubborn point for Liane and Florine: having children with a partner that was chosen for them may have been a matter of duty when they were subject to their respective family’s authority, but now they were in control.

To followers of The Six, bloodlines were a part of who one was; an aspect of attraction for men and women both. Their beliefs were also in line with how the world worked, and the world did not care about nonsensical sensibilities. Humans did generally desire those they perceived as strong or successful, but it was an instinct rather than a decision that came after careful analysis and calculation.

Relying on breeding instincts alone more often than not led to sub-optimal outcomes. People could be deceived with courtships that were too brief and one usually couldn’t be too picky. Having indisputable proof that one’s partner was who they claimed to be was an assurance that followers of The Six enjoyed.

“It isn’t as if we’ll just snatch anyone off of the street,” Florine said. “And how we raise our children is also just as important, isn’t it? Pedigree does not guarantee anything.”

Ludmila exchanged glances with Clara. She wondered if their views would change if they possessed knowledge of Classes and Levels and how bloodlines factored into personal development. Given that they would all officially be in the same camp, the answer would come soon enough.

“Not that we’ve had any luck here,” Liane added, “the men here are no good…well, there’s Momon, but there isn’t a single woman in the city that’s been able to bag him. Guy’s a legend, in more ways than one.”

“The Merchant traffic should be somewhat restored, should it not?” Ludmila asked.

“It is, but the ones who come here…we’re getting the expendables, basically. E-Rantel is an easy place to trade since our industrial development is so lacking. We’re still ninety-nine per cent farms and woodlots. The best and brightest merchants get sent by their companies to places with the stiffest competition.”

Liane made more indecipherable gestures with the handkerchief, then opened the cabin window beside her.

“I don’t think anyone would have noticed all that through the window,” Florine said.

“You never know unless you try,” Liane replied. “Not like it’ll hurt me if nothing happens.”

With that, she dropped the silken handkerchief out of the window. Ludmila watched it drift to the cobblestones.

“What happens now?”

“What’s supposed to happen,” Liane told her, “is that someone who’s on the lookout comes to pick it up. I just did a thing that signifies that I’m interested in making an acquaintance. Anyone that can read that should have some degree of sophistication, yeah?”

Moments later, a shadow appeared at the window. Liane brightened, then frowned as a Soul Eater stuck its head into the cabin and returned the handkerchief. Clara visibly struggled to keep her laughter contained as the silken cloth settled on Liane’s lap.

“When’s the wedding?” Ludmila asked.