Chapter 3

Nemel took a deep breath.

Then she took another.

Breathe…breathe…breathe…

“Miss Gran?”

“Oaergahsl!”

Nemel stopped breathing. Dame Verilyn cast a dubious look upon her.

“Are you alright, Miss Gran? I promoted you quite a bit to Lady Zahradnik. If you fall short of expectations, I may be accused of false advertising.”

“That…that doesn’t help!” Nemel fidgeted, “I’m nervous enough as it is. I’m still in my uniform – don’t you think I should be in a dress?”

“My lady has been stranded in a sea of uniformed men for the last two weeks or so,” Dame Verilyn said, “so I don’t think seeing one more uniform will matter. At least you don’t have that smell…actually, do you know what that is?”

She was fairly certain that she knew what the smell that Dame Verilyn was talking about probably was, but Nemel wasn’t sure why it was pertinent to the situation at hand. Fingers patting over her uniform, she checked herself for the fifth time as they stood outside the front entrance of the Silver Shoals. With them were Fendros, Elise and Ida. They had nice dresses on and Dame Verilyn had her spectacular Dancer outfit. Nemel probably looked like a block of wood in comparison.

Dame Verilyn had appeared while they were closing up Zu Chiru’s merchant stand, informing Nemel that Lady Zahradnik was in Norford and was waiting to see them. There was no forewarning whatsoever: only the fact that they had been staying in the city for an extended period because Dame Verilyn went off to slay the Viridian Dragon Lord with Lady Zahradnik.

That the Baroness was suddenly here to see them was unnerving enough. That this meant she had successfully completed her task of dealing with an Ancient Green Dragon slowly sunk in afterwards, compounding onto the already legendary image that Nemel had of her liege’s liege in her head. Lady Zahradnik was someone she had felt long before this meeting: the wielder of mysterious powers beyond the knowledge of the Empire’s foremost mystical scholars.

A wagon trundled by on its way to the dockyards, the scent of freshly-cut pine suffusing the air in its wake. Her hair was tossed by a frigid gust of wind and she fled into the entrance of the inn.

“Is my head okay?” Nemel checked her hair for the dust and splinters that might have flown into it.

Fendros reached out to tease Nemel’s dirty-blonde locks.

“You’ll be fine,” the taller woman said after a few seconds. “Isn’t it worse to keep Lady Zahradnik waiting?”

Nemel made a worried sound as she shuffled towards the private rooms in the back of the tavern. Even after all this time, she wasn’t sure how she would introduce herself. She roughly understood the duties that Dame Verilyn needed her for, but her tasks were so loosely defined that she couldn’t imagine they would come across very well to another Noble.

She would be growing potatoes – no, she was to develop agricultural lands along a river south of the mountain that Dame Verilyn laired atop of. After that, things grew vague. It was to be expected, she supposed: they would be going from absolutely nothing to something and what would come after that was dependent on what sort of something came out of that nothing.

Dame Verilyn appeared to have some knowledge of what was to be done, but beyond answering questions about the territory’s physical details and what she wanted from it, the Frost Dragon actively avoided working with Nemel and the others. As far as Nemel could tell, it had to do with what she had told them in Oestestadt: people should be doing what they were supposed to be doing. Dame Verilyn was a Frost Dragon Bard, so she only did what she believed a Frost Dragon Bard should do. The ‘nobling’ was left to them, as they were Nobles.

If a Noble acted that way towards others, they would surely be seen as arrogant and she had never heard of someone telling a Noble to ‘Noble’. No matter their social status, most people stuck their noses into whatever they were interested in. Since this could be quite annoying, Dame Verilyn’s self-imposed isolation from administrative affairs was potentially a good thing.

Anxiety gripped her as they stopped before a closed door. What would happen within would make or break them.

“Please wait outside while Miss Gran speaks to my lady,” Dame Verilyn said.

The Frost-Dragon-turned-Human made her way inside, reaching out to drag Nemel along.

Eh? You’re not going to knock? I’m going alone?! Wait!!!!

The door clicked shut behind her. Nemel’s heart hammered in her ears as she walked around the corner.

“Geh!” Came a man’s voice.

“Geh!” Nemel replied.

“Geh?”

The last ‘geh’ belonged to a dark-haired woman seated behind the room’s large table. A metre to the woman’s left was Rangobart Roberbad.

“This isn’t remotely near the introduction I was expecting,” Dame Verilyn muttered. “Is ‘geh’ some sort of Human protocol that doesn’t translate?”

What’s Rangobart doing here…

Her meeting had already gone sideways upon seeing someone that she never expected or ever wanted to see again. Nemel was aware of which students had enlisted with the Imperial Army, but what were the chances that Rangobart would show up with Lady Zahradnik?

Dame Verilyn cleared her throat.

“Baroness Zahradnik,” she said, “I have the pleasure of introducing you to Nemel…did you have more to your name?”

Why are you asking me now?!

Was that her fault? Or was it Dame Verilyn’s fault for never asking?

The Baroness wore an impenetrable mask. Rangobart frowned slightly. Was he going to do something? She couldn’t let him ruin everything.

“Nemel Elena Lerex Gran,” she lowered her head in a deep curtsey, which looked stupid in her uniform. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Baroness Zahradnik.”

“I’ve been looking forward to our meeting as well,” Lady Zahradnik smiled. “Dame Verilyn has had nothing but good things to say about you. Out of curiosity: is there a reason why you have ‘Elena’ in your name?”

“One daughter in every generation of House Gran has carried the name ‘Elena’, my lady,” Nemel replied.

“How many generations has this gone on for?”

Nemel blinked. Of all of the things she might have been asked about, why a part of her name?

“I’m not sure…I’m not even sure why we do it. Like many, our family history was lost centuries ago with the Demon Gods. I suppose that my name is one of the few things left of that history, so it might be why we’ve purposely held on to it.”

“I see. In that case, I had one other question: Dame Verilyn mentioned that you didn’t raise any concerns over her bringing in goods from her activities without going through customs. Is this true?”

To Nemel’s side, Dame Verilyn looked about ready to flee the room. When the Frost Dragon spoke of her liege, it was usually with a sense of familiar fondness. Was there some terrifying aspect of Baroness Zahradnik hidden behind her gallant exterior? One that even a Dragon was wary of? She seemed Human enough…then again, she had just dispatched an Ancient Dragon.

“Yes, my lady,” Nemel nodded. “I’ve been charged with handling her affairs, so I took it upon myself to ensure that all of her business is properly handled. If you wish to inspect the paperwork, I can head up to our suite and retrieve it.”

“I can take a look at it later, Miss Gran,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “Please continue to serve Dame Verilyn well. She is exceptional in many ways, but she will be depending on you in others. If I’m not mistaken, there are three other women who you wished to introduce to me?”

“…is there nothing else you wished to ask me, my lady?”

“Nothing that immediately comes to mind. I believe I understand everything that can be discerned at present. The rest will be assessed as you carry out your duties.”

One might say that Lady Zahradnik was as curt as could be expected of a Frontier Noble, but there was something mixed into the way that she conveyed herself suggesting she knew more than she let on. Not wanting to destabilise what appeared to be her tentative leave to serve as Dame Verilyn’s vassal, Nemel went to retrieve the others.

Fendros, Elise and Ida waited outside the door with tentative looks. After seeing Nemel nod, they let out a collective sigh of relief before she took Fendros inside. The other woman froze as she saw who was at the table.

“Geh!” Fendros raised an arm defensively in front of her, “Rangobart…”

“Indeed,” Rangobart sighed. “It is I – Rangobart Eck Waraiya Roberbad.”

“At this juncture,” Lady Zahradnik said, “I must wonder why you elicit that reaction.”

The Baroness’ curious tone reminded Nemel that, despite the huge gap between their station and backgrounds, Dame Verilyn’s liege was still close to them in age.

“If I were to put it plainly,” Rangobart said, “it amounts to a difference in station. In the academy, scions of High Nobles work to ensure that the dignity of the imperial establishment is maintained and propriety is observed in relationships between students. Our efforts are not always appreciated. There are even some who misconstrue our actions as abuses of privilege.”

“You harassed us for associating with commoners!” Nemel’s voice grew heated.

“Wrong.” Rangobart replied, “I was doing you, in particular, a favour. And it was only because of one commoner in particular. Testania is a parasite and a walking contradiction. He openly expresses his disdain for the Nobility while at the same time aiming to join our ranks. The man clung to Miss Furt even after her house was attainted and they could no longer afford his family’s service. When she vanished, he moved on to you and Lady Frianne. All while spouting his self-righteous drivel and bumbling about with his thoughtless attempts at manoeuvring. His despicable behaviour was insufferable.”

“No one asked for your ‘help’,” she seethed.

“And those who do often ask only after what they’ve been suffering from becomes too much to bear. The choice was either to allow the talented and perfectly good daughter of House Gran to be dragged down by someone unworthy of her or help her and her family extricate themselves from that awkwardness. I would make the same choice every time. It is part of our responsibility as Nobles: we have the authority and resources to take effective action where it is required – whether that action is welcome or not.”

Nemel looked away with a pout. High Nobles always played dirty. Everything he said was constructed to sound cool and rational, so those unfamiliar with the situation would tend to favour his view.

“Um…”

Their heads turned to Fendros, who shifted nervously in the tense silence. Nemel collected herself before gesturing toward her.

“Baroness Zahradnik,” she said, “I have the pleasure of introducing you to Fendros Reilya Dale Ilien.”

“My lady,” Fendros greeted the Baroness. “It is an honour to finally meet you. I will do my utmost to assist Miss Gran in her duties to Dame Verilyn, who has so graciously taken us under her wing.”

A moment of silence fell over the room before Baroness Zahradnik nodded.

“I’ve heard from Dame Verilyn about the situation you’ve found yourself in. Please rest assured that you will be afforded a fair opportunity to demonstrate your quality in Dame Verilyn’s service, free from the stigma placed upon your house by imperial society.”

“I…thank you, my lady, I–”

Fendros’ voice broke, and she turned away to face the wall. Quiet sobs escaped the handkerchief held against her face.

Elise entered the room next to make her introductions, followed by Ida. When they had settled down, Lady Zahradnik bid them each to take their seats and a procession of sumptuous courses were brought in for dinner. Fendros, Elise and Ida’s eyes seemed to sparkle as a meal the likes of which they had probably not seen since their houses fell into poverty was laid out before them.

“So if I understand things correctly,” Rangobart said, “Miss Gran has employed these three to assist her in her duties to Dame Verilyn?”

“That’s right,” Lady Zahradnik said. “Is there some issue with this?”

“Not as such, no,” Rangobart replied. “Due to their houses being subjected to attainder, they are in a difficult situation. Imperial interests will be wary of using them for all but the lowliest of tasks, but, as Dame Verilyn is from the Sorcerous Kingdom, there is little anyone would openly say about her selection.”

“I’m curious what your stance is on how the Empire handles the matter of the attainted.”

Rangobart worked on a portion of his opening course – a rich forest mushroom stew – as he appeared to ponder the Baroness’ question.

“Officially, the imperial establishment and all of its institutions support the process of attainder enacted by His Imperial Highness.”

“And unofficially?” Lady Zahradnik asked.

“It feels a waste,” Rangobart answered. “I understand that the Emperor wishes to make examples of those who defy his rule in various ways or fail to meet his standards. At the same time, however, the imperial establishment is suffering unnecessary damage. Culture, tradition and generations of ties and breeding…it is like cutting down a tree when only a branch requires pruning.”

“Surely someone must have brought up the practical implications to the Emperor?”

“Who would dare? They’d risk attainder themselves. The controlling interests of the Empire firmly believe that the merits of an individual are determined by their upbringing rather than their blood or station. That a Fisherman can just as easily be a War Wizard, Imperial Knight or Noble.”

“You don’t share this belief?” Lady Zahradnik raised an eyebrow, “With the headmaster of the Imperial Magic Academy the way that he is, I would have thought most students also carry this mindset.”

Rangobart snorted.

“The headmaster is in his position because he is an accomplished Wizard, but he is not much else. I’m sure more than a few students understand this by the time they take the Promotional Examination. He is a mage brought up in the problematic environment that you’ve indicated in previous discussions – he was raised as a tool and can only see everyone else as one. The Noble ‘students’ that he is responsible for are well aware that they are tools, but we know to look beyond that fact. It is a part of what we are: it is not all that we are.”

“It’s encouraging to know that the academy doesn’t simply churn out gears for the machinery of the Empire.”

“Oh, they certainly try,” Rangobart said. “They even succeed in certain ways. The main benefit of the Imperial Magic Academy is in how it educates its students on the workings of the Empire. There are certain things, however, that require more than that sterile education. Capable individuals learn how to survive and thrive upon recognising this. Those without ambition and ability remain ignorant, becoming obedient little bureaucrats when they might have turned into heedless wastrels otherwise. ”

The door opened and the night’s entrées were carted in. They waited for the restaurant staff to leave the room before continuing their discussion.

“At any rate,” Rangobart said. “While nothing can be done about attainder, I’m glad that something can be done about those who have been marked by association. They are even more disadvantaged than the common folk when it comes to what opportunities are made available to them. Finding gainful employment is far preferable to selling themselves at a brothel or being subjected to something equally unfortunate.”

“In that case,” Lady Zahradnik smiled slightly, “I think this harvest may be more fruitful than anticipated.”