Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Now that there was a tenuous future goal to work towards Lestilaut was in more familiar territory: work.

After his mother’s temper was soothed, Father managed to convince her that ordainment would not only make their ground work more convenient, it would also serve as a good cover for his faction building activities. After all, Lestilaut would be acclimatizing his faction to the temple regardless given his chosen first wife. 

And additionally, it would flaw him just enough that on the unlikely happenstance that Lord Ferdinand were unwilling to claim his place as royalty, Lestilaut would be in a position to abdicate and search for the Glutrissheit in his own name. 

All of a sudden in between his general duties and moving into his new estate, a large swatch of his life was taken up by temple matters.

First, personal robes had to be ordered and his accommodations furnished. Luckily with his recent move, most of his old furniture from his room in the children’s tower could be repurposed, so it was only things that had to be made to size like curtains and wardrobe fittings that had to be purchased. With luck it would all be done by spring’s end, perhaps even by the time he left for the Archduke’s Conference. 

More important was meeting with his major faction heads. Most of them were abuzz with the same question. 

“We hear you will be more involved in religious proceedings going forward. Such an undertaking…has Elpberg finally succumbed to Verfuhremeer’s unceasing tide?”

Lestilaut became so used to explaining the results of his research that he felt like he was just presenting his school project again. Even then the amount of answers it took to reassure them that everything was true and it was all credible that temple activities were necessary to gain the benefits of increased blessings and colors (a slight exaggeration, but they did ask in terms of his personal experience). Although they all clamored for permission to go dedicate their mana, they were attempting every avenue to find a way around the temple itself. 

Perhaps he should have expected the bulwark of resistance from the general populace, but this was a little ridiculous. To let such trivial perceptions get in the way of obtaining strength…were they true-born Dunkelfelgers or not?

Once he understood the workings of the temple…certain issues aside…Lestilaut had not found the change in mindset overly difficult. It was easier once one viewed it as a mistake made centuries ago. In those earlier days, being sent to the temple before one’s baptism must have been akin to attending remedial classes. A shame to one’s house and name, to be certain, but not unrecoverable. The mana dedications must then have been the payment for making use of the temple’s resources. 

But much like remedial classes, some inevitably failed them, either through lack of ability, intellect, or sabotage. Such failures were then abandoned to rot until such time that these failures made up the entire population of the temple and entering the temple became the punishment it is known to be in the present day, as the purpose of gaining more elements was forgotten over time and it became an expedient way to dispose of weak children.

But that was never what it was meant to be. Once it was clear how the process worked, that it worked with incredible efficacy, the old traditions gained all sorts of reason and sense he had been hitherto ignorant of. To think Lestilaut could have always spent less than a week to become omni-elemental so easily! When he was young, Father seemed so untouchable, a man of perfect strength and deceptive wisdom. Though the Aub’s mantle had become less daunting over time, there was still a niggling fear in Lestilaut that he would always find that cape heavier than Werdekraff ever did. Gaining one more element was not a significant change one way or another, but it settled something in his heart now that he was that much closer to being a mana match for his father. 

It was with that in mind that he recommended Hannelore join him in the temple at least once every so often.

Predictably, this was a much harder fight. 

“Do the fires of Angriff so lack in Dultsetzen’s bounty that he must seek Efflorelume’s raiment to burn?” Mother said scathingly when he proposed the subject, “or has he forgotten that his pyre resembles not the house that banks the Eastern wind at her source?”

“Neither Mother, Father,” Lestilaut said, trying his best to convey his sincerity to the furious woman. Even Werdekraff had a difficult frown on his face, “I would not have even entertained the notion if I did not believe that such an effort was worth the bounty she could find in religious devotion. I am in the unique position of feeling the chasm of difference between my prior self and one who now carries more than twice the blessings than I once had. There is so much we all have to gain.”

“But there is also so much for Hannelore to lose, as well,” Father said with an expression furrowed in thought, “women’s reputations suffer more harshly than that of men especially in this respect. None would be happier than I to see our Hannelore truly flourish, but her position in the archducal family is not stable enough for such actions. We must be careful that she does not lose in power what she will gain in colors. She cannot depend upon your shroud nor mine forever.”

Lestilaut’s scowled deepened. 

Right . Mother and Father had not been made aware of Hannelore’s intentions towards Wilfried of Ehrenfest, where temple associations would be only a benefit rather than a concern. With any other match except perhaps to one of the archduke candidates who had attended the dedication ceremony in the academy, a temple association would irreparably harm her power to bargain in her marriage.  

“...If the temple’s sinful gardens could be pruned entirely…perhaps.”

Indeed. Lestilaut smiled grimly. It was necessary regardless to prepare for Rozemyne, cleaning up the temple with all haste for Hannelore’s sake would only serve their cause. 

“In that effort I would like to propose several…large…changes, ones for which I humbly ask your advice as Aub, Father.” 

The first fight was with the Knights’ Order. As they were the main resistance against stomping out the temple’s unsavory practices. The main issue was that there was simply no convenient replacement for the temple. The knights neither wanted to enter the commoner’s quarters to purchase their ‘flowers’, nor did they want to summon them to the barracks. They wished that their dealings remained separate and out of sight of their work. Which Lestilaut could at least respect. 

The second fight was with the middle men. When he pried the temple’s business open, Lestilaut discovered a whole system of laynoble scholars and attendants who facilitated and conducted such business for higher ranking nobles so that they could keep the idea as separate from themselves as possible. Abruptly stopping the business of flower offerings would leave a swath of laynobles underemployed and cause a minor economic shock through the capitol. 

The third fight were the blue priests themselves, although this was not a fight so much as a nuisance. As future high bishop, Lestilaut could easily order them to do whatever pleased him, and they must comply. That being said, a good portion of them made money by renting out their attendant grey shrine maidens. As crass, undereducated, and audacious as they were, Lestilaut could easily predict that a not insignificant number of them would risk disobeying his mandates to maintain their income. Enforcement would be tedious and tie up his retainers in trivial busywork for little use and rob mana from the temple. He could punish a few higher ranking ones to set an example, but then would have to deal with their families, wasting even more of his efforts. 

So, he obtained a sanction from Father to use Entwickeln to form a building in the laynoble’s quarter, meaningfully separated from the residences but also very clearly not a part of the temple. If the laynobles wanted to maintain their business, they can shoulder the reputational cost of such a building in their vicinity. Once the building was established, he had his scholars contact all the laynobles that had been part of the old High Bishop’s system and gave them an ultimatum to either conduct their business in the new building instead, or find gainful employment elsewhere. They moved. At some point they began to refer to the building as the Garden Annex. Lestilaut did not care to stop them. 

Next, he drew an edict within the temple that banned all blue priests from renting out their attendants without exception, and had Vingelt who - strangely seemed to have settled into being his dedicated scholar for temple work - to suggest to the current high bishop and high priest to encourage their subordinates to send back any attendants they could no longer pay for in exchange for a modest compensation. The renting and sale of gray priests would henceforth be handled by the office of the high priest exclusively, one that Lestilaut intended to have taken over by whichever of his retainers was willing. The proceeds of such rentals and sales would then dispersed equally among the blue priests as a part of their temple income. Once the population of rented grey clergy returned to the orphanage, Lestilaut rented out a large number of them with his own funds to “staff” the new building. 

Finally, he went to the knight’s order. 

As the oldest male archduke candidate of his generation among mostly women (to somewhat make up for the large amount of men who had been promoted during the civil war) Lestilaut’s connections with the knights’ order had always been stronger than the rest. He attended training with them, he campaigned with them, and he fought alongside them whenever duty called. In many ways, the knights expected him to represent their interests to the archducal family. Normally they were already largely on his side, regardless of factional ties. 

However, that was also why they pushed back against his temple changes with such vehemence. Dunkelfelger’s Knights’ order had operated without significant change for centuries, each generation building on the last. That it was Lestilaut who would now attempt to change their ways smelled of betrayal to them, and they resisted him with a frustrated fervor that cared not for reason logic. 

Lestilaut waited for a fortnight so they would all get used to the idea. Then he challenged the Knight Commander to an honor duel. 

Unlike the unofficial bout with Edelweiss, this one was formally set up in the Colosseum.

In practice Dunkelfelger’s beloved Colosseum was more of a temple to the gods than any other building in the nobles quarter. It was a perfectly circular structure of columns and arches made of pristine ivory stone, so large as to be able to accommodate Dunkelfelger’s entire noble population by itself. The stands stretched to the sky and cocooned the central arena within. Each floor was sloped in order that no one person could block the view of another no matter where they sat, and large powerful magic circles came aglow when the stadium was active providing both protection for the spectators and a significant amount of light to replace the sunlight that could not entirely penetrate the towering walls. Equidistant around the arena, there were massive sumptuously detailed statues of the Supreme Couple and the Eternal Five, surrounded by smaller effigies of their subordinates as if the gods themselves were eagerly watching the children of Dunkelfelger prove their worth. 

This must be how the temple was once meant to be. 

Armored up and with spear in hand Lestilaut faced the Knight Commander, a man with foxy brown hair and beard shot through with gray, of a stature with his own father. The Knight Commander, Lord Tannhauser was, however, not from his father’s generation but his grandfather’s. He had been a young Werdekraff’s head knight and now, late even into his 50s he had not yet seen anyone wrest his seat from the gnarled old hands. Even as those of his generation retired or were laid to rest, old Tannhauser still tossed men half his age around like boys. 

Lestilaut had never once survived a bout against him.

To make a point, when the Knight Commander summoned a spear to do the duel ritual, Lestilaut beckoned for his knights to bring out Leidenschaft’s spear, glowing with his own mana. Like he had for the God of Darkness’s cloak, Lestilaut had been saturating the divine spear with his mana over the course of days, and it was now nearly full. Topping it off, the golden spear crackled sending out pulses of intense blue mana that outstripped even the glow of the magic circles on the arena walls.

“So this was your plan,” Tannhauser said with a chuckle, his crimson eyes reflecting the mana glow in such a way they gleamed like feystones. 

“I would not disrespect you, Commander, by giving any less. It is my hope that by offering my prayers today, I will show you the difference divine favor makes to mortal men.” 

The old knight laughed.

“Very well then, in deference to your piety, I shall also pray sincerely after your example, Lord Lestilaut.” 

“We are the ones who offer our prayers to the gods who created the world…” 

With every name that crossed his lips, more and more power sang beneath his skin, suffusing his mind and body with a mad drunken glee with each name and domain invoked. Upon raising his spear for the last time, Lestilaut was so blinded by the light of his own immense blessing he could not see his own hands holding the pear aloft. From the choked gasp of the audience, he could tell they had never seen such a thing either. 

When the cloud of glowing mana dissipated, he had to be delicate and slow in handing the empty golden spear back to Bastian, lest he harm his head attendant. 

Across from him Lord Tannhauser frowned. 

Lestilaut sighed quietly, knowing the old man probably assumed Lestilaut would try to wield the divine spear as a weapon in the duel. Unlike Rozemyne, he was not willing to risk the mana drain of entirely refilling the divine spear during battle. Instead he summoned his usual spear and shield. 

“Begin!”

For a man his age and size Tannhäuser was unfairly fast and hit like a living avalanche that knew exactly where all of Lestilaut’s weakest spots were. Despite the strength of mountain rock imbued in him, Lestilaut could feel each of their exchanges vibrate through to his bones. 

But he was able to deflect them, something Lestilaut would have never tried without such strong blessings to reinforce him. Even then, he wasted more mana than he wanted to to repel each blow. Unlike Edelweiss, even if Lestilaut could see and recognize the old man’s movements, he usually couldn’t do anything about it. Tannhauser was just that strong and fought like a man who lived and breathed combat in a way Lestilaut couldn’t imagine of himself. It was usually more than enough to dispatch any young knight foolish enough to challenge the Knight Commander. 

But with something he was beginning to recognize as divine imbued in his body Lestilaut found he could endure the way he never had before. While the force he expended was the same and he could feel each of his exchanges with the old knight, he met them all whilst his blood sang madly with power, every blow that quaked through him suffused with glee so bright it burned a hollow in his chest. 

Tannhauser scowled as he hooked his axe onto the shaft of Lestilaut’s spear and reel him in. 

In that split second, Lestilaut was overcome with the incredibly stupid urge to not only allow it, but to press in to what would without doubt be certain demise. But in the throes of this bizarre new mood he charged in with all that he had, turning to slam his shoulder into Tannauser’s open side when his axe was occupied. 

The air around him ignited with dazzling yellow and blue mana.

The fall out of their collision explode outwards, throwing up clouds of dust and rubble that slammed against the magical barriers of the colosseum to the delighted shrieks of the audience. Letsilaut too was thrown back, blinded by the commotion and shock as he bounced violently off the barrier magic and landed face forward. He only barely had the wherewithal to shakily regain his feet, hoping that the old knight commander was equally as blind and he would have a few precious seconds to prepare a counter before Tannhauser struck at him in the confusion.

That strike never came. 

When the cloud of rubble cleared, the old man was also shaking on his feet at the exact opposite end of the stadium seemingly having also been crushed into it, not much different from Lestilaut. 

One breath.

Two.

Tannhauser collapsed to one knee.

The crowd roared. 

The old man laughed weakly. “Very well Young Lord Lestilaut, I yield.”

And Lestilaut crumbled. 

He came back to right mind later under the clinical efficient healing of his personal physician with Bastion directing the rest of his attendants with sharp curt instructions as they ferried the needed materials and potions.  

“Lovenheim?”

“Mana exhaustion, milord,” the physician said dryly, “also some minor bone fractures and a dislocation that is best treated slowly over the course of the next two days as that will be less damaging on your shoulder. The most severe of your injuries is undoubtedly for mana exhaustion, although it is beyond my expertise to fathom how it is possible to expend so much of it in a single day much less a single fight . Your mana pathways are much exhausted and I shall simply have to monitor you closely for the next half day.”

Lovenheim was cross with him.

“Thus I cannot in all conscience recommend any potions meant to substantially replenish mana. Please instead make use of these special nutritional potions and rest in order to recover your strength naturally.”

While it was no longer strictly necessary now that Lestilaut was awake and more or less capable of drinking his potions by himself, the doctor still willfully used the magic tool for forcing one’s jaw open. The chosen potions were definitely more bitter than they absolutely had to be and one left an unpleasantly waxy feeling in his mouth. Lestilaut didn’t even think it did anything. 

Lovenheim was definitely cross with him. 

Lestilaut shifted beneath his bedding to take stock of his own condition by habit and winced as pain echoed from his right shoulder cutting sharply through the general dull ache that throbbed throughout the rest of his body. 

Ah…that’s it.

At his side the older man sniffed disdainfully as he finished his healing and transformed his white examination gloves back into a schtappe and de-summoned it. As soon as Lovenheim stepped back, Bastion replaced him doing a full waschen of Lestilaut’s body and surroundings. 

“Will you be taking dinner tonight milord?” 

“Yes, I think,” Lestilaut said, now that he was a little more conscious, he’d become aware of just how empty he felt. 

“As expected,” Lovenheim muttered under his breath, “at least for the night, I recommend that all your bread be boiled in milk and all your meat be braised to utmost tenderness. If you cannot wait for the change in your menu, fruit juice shall suffice in the meanwhile. It is best to tend towards sweet fruits rather than sour. Zuckerflaume will serve best but any will do.” 

Lestilaut didn’t appreciate being put on a sick diet only out of mana exhaustion but he was too tired to combat Lovenheim on it. As both his physician and Lovenheim had his parents’ ears at all hours and being lectured through an ordonannz was a special kind of demeaning that Lestilaut would rather leave in his childhood.

To his own private embarrassment, Lestilaut ended up drinking two large pitchers full of juice before his dinner arrived and far from running his appetite, only seemed to whet it like a knife. Like Lovenheim predicted, Zuckerflaume, a fruit Lestilaut hadn’t particularly favored due to its overbearing sweetness that tended to overpower other flavors, tasted better than it ever had that night. Once his food finally arrived, he ate enough boiled bread and meat to probably feed a whole knight’s patrol by himself. He was almost grateful that it was all easy to eat so he could eat more faster.  

All this with Lovenheim in the corner having brought his work into Lestilaut’s room for the night, clacking through whatever brewing calculations he was currently working on, probably, definitely smiling a little too smugly.

The next two days grated on his patience. Although it was clear to everyone including himself that Lestilaut needed the bedrest, Lestilaut’s first archduke conference loomed in the distance. He should have be in and out of the Aub’s office preparing for it, but Bastion was adamant in keeping him confined while his shoulder mended and his mana slowly recovered. The older man didn’t even allow him to sit at his work desk, so Lestilaut had to have his scholars report his own work to him in bed. 

Which would be fine if all his adult scholars were not preoccupied making up the share of the work he couldn’t do. Even Lovenheim had put down his beakers and vials and disappeared to Father’s office leaving him with only Kentrips and Arkinger, who were left behind because they weren’t fully trained for such work. Instead they traded shifts as more or less human roosts for the ordonannz Lestilaut couldn’t send with his mana exhaustion. 

By the third day, Lestilaut practically leapt out of bed as soon as the healing spell dissipated from his shoulder, pain and exhaustion and all.

Hannelore was visiting today to break up the monotony and it would be the first time she saw his new estate. Now that they no longer lived together in the children’s tower, visits necessarily involved more fanfare. Lestilaut had to make sure it was suitably impressive. 

Even so Hannelore arrived with one more guard knight than Lestilaut had thought she would.

“Sister,” Lestilaut asked, eyeing the extra member in her entourage once the greetings were through and they’d sat down to tea, “why have you brought Heisshitze to my private residence?”

Hannelore averted her eyes awkwardly, “Lord Heisshitze was particularly adamant that he had to speak with you, and to do so, he…um...submitted himself to my mercy. He’s been having a rather difficult time.”

A ‘rather difficult time’ was a generous assessment. Although he maintained his stoic dignity as a Dunkelfelger knight, Heisshitze was hardly recognizable as the man he was from scarcely half a month ago. Heisshitze has always had a unique luster to his presence, so bright as to lift the atmosphere around himself out of sheer good temperament. The man in front of Lestilaut had well and truly lost that characteristic gleam. His complexion had lacked vibrance, his countenance lacked liveliness, and though his blue eyes were as focused and serious as they ever had been, their color seemed somehow dulled.  

It was not hard to see how he had stirred Hannelore’s generous heart with pity.

Lestilaut sighed. “Very well, he may speak his piece once our business is done.”

With ample motivation standing somberly in the corner, Lestilaut and Hannelore worked efficiently sharing information about how the noble population was reacting to his recent championing of temple matters, the fall out of his recent duel with the Knight Commander, and Hannelore’s plans for the spring hunt and whether Lestilaut should consider making an appearance even though he was no longer required to attend, or if it will be enough for Hannelore to send his apprentice knights as a show of good will. 

When they finally addressed Heisshitze, the campaign knight knelt before them almost before he was given leave to do so.

“You’ve certainly chosen a singular way to gain my attention, Heisshitze,” Lestilaut said with a sardonic smile, “I recall your clan is a staunch supporter of the Aub. Surely you could have obtained an audience through more conventional methods.”

“It is my own failing, Lord Lestilaut, that I was forced to scavenge the scraps off Dregarnuhr’s spindle to bring myself before you in such inopportune circumstances. As this was my own desire, no firekin but bright-eyed Brenwarmme stands beside me,” Heisshitze said grimly, “there is something I must make known to the Aub and Archducal family…It is about Lord Ferdinand.”

Lestilaut’s gaze snapped to Hannelore’s to see her eyes widening, no doubt the same thoughts were running through both their minds. 

“Apprentices, leave us, this is interduchy business,” Lestilaut commanded. “Arkringer, begin transcriptions.”

“Yes sir!” 

Hannelore did much the same leaving herself only an adult attendant and two adult guard knights. 

He quickly checked Heisshitze to see if he had any reaction to the change in protocol about a subject that rightly shouldn’t much involve such seriousness, but Heisshitze’s focus was singular and unwavering. He hardly seemed to notice. Lestilaut bade him to rise and take his seat. 

As far as Lestilaut knew, Father hadn’t discussed their future plans outside of their immediate family and closest retainers, certainly not with the wider archducal family at large, much less the ever squabbling archducal clans. If Heisshitze had somehow been informed, there was a serious information leak that had to be immediately staunched.

“And what of Lord Ferdinand?” Lestilaut said with a cold forceful calm, “He is in Ahrensbach now, no?”

A slight shiver ran through Heisshitze’s kneeling form and for a moment the older man looked as if he’d been wounded by those simple words. 

“Lord Ferdinand in danger! The woman he is engaged to, his very life shall be at peril beneath her thumb!”

…

“What?” For a moment, Lestilaut scrutinized Heisshitze, wondering if the odd knight was joking but he seemed wholly in earnest. “How in Leidenschaft’s name have you arrived at such a conclusion?”

“Sir, Lady Detlinde is Lady Veronica’s granddaughter!”

Lestilaut frowned as he rolled the name around in his mind trying to remember where he’d heard it before. He’s heard the name before, but it wasn’t immediately coming to him.

“Lord Heisshitze,” Hannelore interrupted softly, “perhaps you should explain everything from the beginning. As I told you before, these new threads spun to mend our…tenuous…former connections know little of the knots hidden beneath the old seams.”

As if he’d suddenly regained a sense of embarrassment, Heisshitze bowed his head lower and his posture drooped into something more submissive and subdued.

“The former First Lady of Ehrenfest, Veronica, has despised Lord Ferdinand from the beginning. Ever since his childhood she has used all the resources available to her to curse his life like a plague,” Heisshitze said shakily, “that woman married a daughter to the current Aub Ahrensbach, and she is Lady Detlinde’s mother.”

So there were no new issues to contend with. Lestilaut was careful not to let it show but he could feel himself relax. He would check his records for the details and account for them. 

It was clear however, that this was a good opportunity for Heisshitze to resolve this old burning regret he’s carried around for many years now, one that changed the entire trajectory of his future. Heisshitze was their strongest. More than any other archducal clan member, more than even a significant portion of the Dunkelfelger Archducal family. He alone had been pursuing strength with a single-minded obsessive focus that has never flagged in over a decade of tireless devotion. If Lestilaut could be said to seek the endless sky, then Heisshitze’s efforts were that of one who sought to pierce the heavens and obtain the sun.  

It would be immeasurably valuable to have such a man in his debt.

“I see,” he said deliberately lightly, “Aub Ehrenfest did imply that Ahrensbach has interfered with the ruling of Ehrenfest for many years now.”

A vicious, near bestial snarl took over Heisshitze’s face. It was such a hateful expression both archduke candidates recoiled so see it mar a man they had never seen be resentful of anymore including the people who meant him ill.

“Aub Ehrenfest,” he said slowly but with bone chilling conviction, “does not know the half of it.”

“Drink your tea and calm down first,” Lestilaut ordered the man, “I am listening.”

Once Heisshitze began to speak there was no stopping him. The aggrieved knight had clearly striven to be at Lord Ferdinand’s side every second he could manage during his time at the Royal Academy and even 10 years later remembered every minor detail of incidents big and small. These ranged from simple bullying that were in bad taste but not unheard of in particularly vicious wives to occasions that clearly paid no mind to the damage that it would cause to Ehrenfest’s internal politics and her own power as first wife.

Although if she were an agent of Ahrensbach and had been promised accommodations once the vassal duchy was too weak to even consider leaving Ahrensbach’s influence, Lestilaut supposed it wouldn’t have mattered how much damage she caused. Once retired comfortably to an unmarked rural estate lovingly prepared for her by her daughter in a greater duchy, she wouldn’t have to deal with any of the consequences.

“It is of the most bitter misfortune that Lord Ferdinand is not the kind of man who would inform his father and brother of these personal incidents which he did not consider to be of any political value for Ehrenfest’s governance as a whole,” Heisshitze said at last, his tea-cup shaking in his hand. 

Early in their conversation, Lestilaut had Bastion switch their tea with a calming blend usually given to those with the “Warrior’s Malady,” a sickness of the mind common to knights, before regular sedation was considered by healers. Heisshitze clearly recognized the taste looking up briefly at Lestilaut before draining his cup regardless. He then proceeded to drink three cups of the brew. That he was still showing such a physical reaction afterwards spoke to the depth and power of his rage.

“I have no evidence for you, Lord Lestilaut, but I believe with the utmost certainty, that Lord Ferdinand could not have returned to noble society from his temple exile unless that vile woman has been either deposed or has met her fitting end atop the towering stairs. And with that consideration, I am certain her daughter and granddaughter have no kind feelings towards him,” Heisshitze said. Even if the calming tea had not abated his rage it had certainly eroded his composure. The older man now looked vacantly at his cup, no longer seeing it, with an expression of quiet, devastating fear. “Without doubt, they are only biding their time, waiting until they can get their spiteful revenge with impunity.”

“...and here I am in Dunkelfelger, unable to so much as unsheathe my sword in response. So please Lord Lestilaut, you who so gallantly pursued Lady Rozemyne, Lord Ferdinand’s cherished legacy, I come to submit myself to your mercy. I beg you take whatever small measure you are willing to spare to save Lord Ferdinand!”

Even Lestilaut’s heart could not help but quiver in the wake of such self-consuming heartfire. 

Bastion firmly placed a steaming cup of tea in his hands. It was so hot, it pulled Lestilaut out of the stifling mood to coat his fingertips in mana so he could hold it properly. He took a sip to find the taste of the same calming tea they’d been feeding Heisshitze over the past half bell. Lestilaut looked up sheepishly at his head attendant to see the older man glaring down impassively before stepping back.

Lestilaut looked back at his guests to see Heisshitze’s heart shatter in front of him. 

He sighed.

“For having lost your clan’s backing, Heisshitze, your information is good,” Lestilaut said neutrally, “I am certainly making concrete plans to wed Rozemyne, and her influence upon me is the best recourse you have to engender action at the interduchy level. I can see that you truly will spare no effort in this pursuit. For that you have my sympathies.”

“Thank you, milord,” the older man said weakly.

“I am not refusing you,” Lestilaut said, “however your timing…”

A ordonannz flitted into the room disrupting the meeting. Everyone lifted their hands only for it to land onto Arkringer’s wrist. He summoned his schtappe and tapped it on the beak.

“Lord Lestilaut! This is Vingelt! There is an emergency! Clarissa has run away and appears to be making her way towards Ehrenfest!” 

It took a moment for Lestilaut to process what he was hearing, and he missed the included details in the first repetition. 

Apparently , Clarissa had somehow pieced together that they were working much more closely with Ehrenfest than had been previously announced. That Father had been concerned about the state of Ehrenfest who was meant to be their new vassal, and was considering offering them a few nobles to help disentangle Ahrenbach’s deep claws from the suffering middle duchy. One of these ideas was to give Clarissa special permission to travel to Ehrenfest early. 

Lestilaut knew his father well enough to know that what Werdekraff had probably been considering was bringing Clarissa along to the Archduke Conference and handing her off to Ehrenfest at that point if they were amenable.

Clarissa had taken it as permission that she was allowed to leave immediately and ran away from home that very night with nothing but basic provisions in order to do so. 

Apparently Clarissa had developed a habit of hiring a guard knight with her personal income and going off after one thing or another so often in the past two years that no one had been concerned that she was missing until an emergency report came in that she was crossing the border into old Werkestock. Her parents had gone to interrogate her apprentice attendant on duty only to discover the poor little med noble had been made to sign a magic contract to keep her silence about Clarissa’s departure and they had to employ a knight with experience in interrogation to glean the necessary details - which may or may not be entirely accurate - from the poor shaken mednoble through circumstantial questions.

Lestilaut wrung his hands together to quell the urge to destroy something.

By the time the third repetition finished, he’d come up with a particularly aggressive idea. 

“Arkringer!” he barked, “prepare my reply!”

Lestilaut took a deep fortifying breath.

“Aub, this is Lestilaut, I request your permission to sanction a knight under my name to pursue the fugitive Clarissa across duchy borders. I intend to leave it to the Aub’s office to inform the relevant parties.”

Almost as soon as the ordonannz was sent, Lestilaut turned to Heisshitze who it seemed had at least been shocked out of his temporary heartbreak.

“You’re in luck Heisshitze,” he said dryly, “I have a bargain for you. If you bring me Clarissa, I will take you with me the next time I speak to Father. He too has affection for Lord Ferdinand and is inclined to be lenient with him.”

The change over the other man was instantaneous, his former wane grief burned away in the flames of desperate feverish hope. 

Good.

Lestilaut held up a hand to catch Heisshitze’s attention so he could keep speaking. “If you bring me Clarissa before she reaches Ehrenfest, I will hire you for the duration of the archduke conference and you can go verify for yourself how Lord Ferdinand is doing and communicate to me any… suggestions , he may have for Dunkelfelger as Lady Rozemyne’s Guardian. And I shall see what can be done about them.”

At the promise of even greater reward, Heisshitze’s eyes stilled and sharpened into the eyes of a predator. For a second, Lestilaut could swear he saw all of Heisshitze’s colors flicker in hie eyes until they settled into divine Leidenschaft blue.          

His ordonannz returned. 

“Lestilaut, I am speaking not as Aub but as your father. You are planning something. I remind you that although not a knight, Clarissa is an archducal clan member who was able to travel from the nobles quarter to the Werkestock duchy gate in a day, and now has over a day’s lead. It will take unusually cruel and exhaustive effort from any pursuer sent after her now.” 

“Father, this is Lestilaut. I understand the unusual effort this undertaking will require and I am ready to take responsibility for it. I have faith in my man. He was once eligible for Archduke Candidacy after all. Please grant us your permission.”

His second ordonannz returned almost the moment it was sent.

“ Ha! Very well, with him it might just be possible. Permission granted.”

Lestilaut smirked sharply. 

“You heard Aub Dunkelfelger,” he barked at his retainers. Amidst their exchange, Bastion had wisely ushered his apprentice retainers back in. “Arkringer prepare the warrant! Bastion bring me my seal, the rest of you prepare supplies…”

“I am grateful, my lord, but that won’t be necessary,” Heisshitze interrupted him. As he was clearly taken over by Brenwarmme’s flames, Lestilaut let it go. “I am already in armor and have my basic supplies. Once I am granted your warrant, I intend to leave immediately.”

Lestilaut smiled even as he rolled his eyes at Heisshitze’s declaration. “You mad man, at least take the readily prepared provisions. Once you have apprehended Clarissa, submit to whichever authority has jurisdiction over the area. I will come and recover you myself in due time.”

“Yes sir!”

“And treat that ridiculous vielfrass like the criminal she is! I will deal with any complaints later.”

True to his word, Heisshitze only took whatever supplies that could be packed onto his high beast in the time it took for Arkringer to finish drawing up the warrant. Once the document was folded into a safe inner pocket he excused himself, mounted, and took off like an arrow shot, painting a blue glimmering streak across the sky. In mere moments he had disappeared. 

“Clarissa will be in for an unpleasant time,” Hannelore said vaguely, “I hope this will be a good lesson in self-restraint for her.”

“I doubt it,” Lestilaut said with a sigh.

Hannelore mirrored him, she also looked uncommonly tired. Lestilaut looked at the small girl thoughtfully.

“Sister,” he said, “thank you for bringing Heisshitze to me. Your effort is much appreciated.”

Hannelore flushed faintly as she averted her eyes with a sheepish smile. “I was unsure if you had already begun to look for prospective retainers for Lady Rozemyne, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt.”

Lestilaut chuckled. “Indeed. He’s a strong option. Let us see if the man who has sworn to serve none will make an exception for Lord Ferdinand’s Legacy.”  

:: The Rozemyne Workshop Contemporary Noble Dictionary::    

“Has Elpberg finally succumbed to Verfuhrmeer’s unceasing tide?” - random noble

• Has your insistence/inflexibility finally caused you to make a drastic decision?
• Have you thought this through?
• With the implication that love is making “Elpberg” do crazy things
• This euphemism refers to the myth where Brenwarme and Elpberg fight over Verfuhremeer
• In my version Verfuremeer stopped the fight between her suitors by challenging them both to come a pursue her in the open ocean, a feat impossible for Elpberg god of mountains who would sink beneath the waves long before he reached her, and Brenwarmme whose fire heart would put itself out the moment it touched the water
• Elpberg walked into the water as far as he could and was forced to remain at his very limit. There he declared he would wait forever, as long as the stony cliffs remained, until Verfuhremeer came to return his love.
• In this case the euphemism refers to the fact that if Elpberg had kept going into the water he would drown
• Brenwarmme throws himself into the water, putting his fire out again and again endlessly, each time his heart goes out and he washes back on shore, his heart is coated in a new layer of ash. Every layer of ash buys him a little bit more time in the water until his heart is put out, and he swears he will extinguish himself over and over again building up his layers of ash until he either obtains his love or his fireheart goes out permanently
• Earlier when Lestilaut compared Ferdinand having to reach over Detlinde’s flouncy dress to escort her to Elpberg withstanding Verfuhremeer’s waves, it was with an implication of pity for a foolhardy effort. Lestilaut’s faction members are using it at him with much the same air here

“Do the fires of Angriff so lack in Dultsetzen’s bounty that he seeks Efflorelume’s raiment to burn?” - Sieglinde

• Are you so impatient that you’ll start affecting your sister’s business?
• Though Angriff is typically a way to refer to Lestilaut, Sieglinde is using it wth and air of mocking here. Like a “bold of you to____” feeling lol
• Dultsetzen’s bounty normally means patience but because she’s also the god of endurance and forebearing she also doubles here as a euphemism for self-restraint, something Lestilaut is almost infamously lacking in, and his mom will not let him forget it
• Efflorelume can refer to any young beautiful unmarried woman but since they’re talking about Hannelore, it’s a stand in for her

"has he forgotten that his pyre resembles not the house that banks the Eastern wind at her source" - Sieglinde

• Your temple is not like Ehrenfest's temple
• This is more of a loose metaphor than it is a euphemism.
  • a fire god's "pyre" is a general term for their home/house. It can change depending on the god like Elpberg's domain is mountains so he has "internal flame" and Fuerstelle is a god fireplaces so he as a "hearth"
  • The other notable except is Leidenshaft doesn't have a particular pyre because he's the master of every pyre. His home stand-in is the endless sky like it is for Schutzaria
    • I really want them to be twins/twinning I think that'd be cute

“ I was forced to scavenge the scraps off Dregarnuhr’s spindle” - Heisshitze

• I was forced to make time/take chances
• The implication is that it’s a desperate action, making use of even opportunities that would normally be inappropriate or in poor taste

“No firekin but bright-eyed Brenwarmme stands beside me” - Heisshitze

• I have no support
• But it’s also a euphemism that implies that his actions aren’t just being dismissed but disapproved of
• Brenwarmme is the god of passion so if he’s the only one on your side, it’s because whatever it is is a personal desire that is irrational or ill advised 
• Heisshitze is very much aware that he’s doing way too much about someone whom noble society barely considers his childhood friend at most and he’s giving this qualifying statement so that Lestilaut and Hannelore understand that his family has essentially cut him off.
• He spent his good will buying support for Ferdinand’s marriage into Ahrensbach so unless he starts doing some very big favors for some people, he doesn’t have any wider support to rely on anymore

“These new threads spun to mend our…tenuous…former connections know little of the knots hidden beneath the old seams” - Hannelore

• Our new relationships have very little to do with your old ones (so we don’t necessarily know what you’re talking about)
• technically, because nothing eventually came of the Ferdinand/Magdalena engagement, Dunkelfelger, strictly speaking, didn’t have a relationship of any kind with Ehrenfest or Ferdinand in Heisshitze’s generation
•  Strictly speaking, Hannelore doesn’t have to be polite to Heisshitze or pretend not to know whether some nebulous prior relationship did or did not exist, but she’d trying to be nice about it 
• Being pedantic when he’s clearly already going through it just seems a bit mean-spirited to her

Vielfrass - fey beast Wolverines that have a venomous bite and corrosive saliva that helps them deal with their usual diet of snakes and other venomous prey. They're the size of common cats/zantze but are much thinner in build, notoriously too much trouble to hunt considering how little usable material they provide. They're as common as your typical Zantze too and aren't afraid of attacking humans although they won't usually mess with big groups of humans. The usual protocol is to just drive them off. If they manages to steal some small bit of food or shiny trinket, tough luck, you're never getting it back

Zuckerflaume - sugar plums. IRL they're just dried fruit that have a candy coating. In Yurg, they're a naturally grown peach-like fruit with an intense fragrant sweetness but bitter pith. When the juice can be used as a sweetener but because of their natural bitter undertones, it's difficult to reduce it into a more convenient sweetener like sugar or honey, so it is usually drunk fresh. The fruit it self can be eaten fresh or prepared by cooking to accompany other foods.

• They grow plentifully in Dunkefelger's warm weather and are a great source of quick energy so they're popular with patrol knights who often eat them roasted right along side any meat they'd hunt for their meal. Old retired knights often wax nostalgic about how nothing tastes quite the same as wild-caught freshly grilled game topped with slices of sticky roasted Zuckerflaume. Other nobles will say politely that it is a "traditional" taste 
• although not as popular as honey or sugar, they are still a popular export and Dunkelfelger has reliably sold massive amounts of Zuckerflaume fruit to the rest of Yurgenschmidt for generations