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Georgine had developed a habit of working in her hidden room after dinner long into the night, at least on nights when her husband didn't expect marital duties. Her attendants were unenthusiastic — except for the understanding and reliable Seltier — but she loved the silence in which to think. She even had the hidden room outfitted with enough cooling circles that, if she wanted to, she could make it feel like winter, just so that she could light a magic tool fireplace and make the gods-forsaken Ahrensbach air feel right every now and then.
And tonight, she had a report from Grausam.
She slotted one end of the rolled parchment into the decoding magic tool, placed its author's name stone into its slot, and charged the feystone that powered it. Grausam's invention was slow and rather mana-hungry, and it was only usable when her namesworn sent written messages on fey parchment — no small task — but it made the cipher very secure.
As she waited for the tool to process the parchment, she ran her fingers over the ornate ink bottle she had given to her uncle so many years ago, which now had a permanent place on her hidden room's desk.
Ah, my dear uncle… What a fool you were. If only you had trusted me, you would still be alive now, perhaps even by my side.
In truth, Georgine had expected little from her trip to Ehrenfest. After all the years her uncle Bezewanst had been her only real family, she owed it to him, and lording her new First Lady status over her worthless 'family' members was at least fleetingly enjoyable, like a taste of the sugar from their trade partners beyond the gate.
Seeing Veronica in the Ivory Tower was an additional confection. That foolish woman thought she would be seated on high no matter how long the Goddess of Time spun her threads, but of course it was hubris. The one who had used Georgine without mercy and then thrown her away when she was no longer needed had herself been thrown away by her own darling son now that he no longer needed her.
Yes, it was just another woven length of the same tired pattern. Sylvester's already-chosen heir was just as much of a fool as he was, while his visibly talented adopted daughter was relegated to the temple — burdened with the work of High Bishop before she even entered the Royal Academy! — and made to bear the blame for his reckless upstart push of new trends and industries. Supposedly she had even done the work of inventing them; after meeting her, Georgine was less skeptical than her namesworn, but still very skeptical. More likely she was being used to launder Ferdinand's work.
That girl, Rozemyne, was just another talented lady to be used and tossed aside. Georgine even warned her — Sylvester couldn't stop the First Wife of Ahrensbach from saying her peace — but naturally, the girl wouldn't listen to a stranger, especially when her caretaker Ferdinand was so guarded. Questioning him about her at least proved that he wasn't incompetent, and subsequent probing had revealed him as quite a dangerous obstacle. Foolish in his short-sighted loyalty, yes, but considering her own early years, Georgine wasn't so hypocritical as to blame him for that.
Guardian and ward both: tossed into the temple to be disgraced and exploited, as Veronica had done with Bezewanst.
Like mother, like son.
Of course, Georgine had known to expect nothing better. That was one reason why, when her uncle had complained in his letters about being burdened with a Devouring child in the temple whose money and mana gave her ideas above her station, Georgine had replied that he should leave the matter to her and sent the instruction to Grausam. The child sounded like a very promising subject for his research. What he would do to the poor girl was not a pretty thing — it might even be ugly enough to silence that fool Gloria — but it wasn't as if anything better awaited her anyway.
Despite a thwarted attempt or two, Georgine was confident Grausam would have secured her in the end, but dear uncle Bezewanst foolishly lost patience. He appealed to Veronica of all people, she got that talking talfrosch Bindewald personally involved, and it naturally ended in disaster.
If only you had trusted me.
If he had, he would have sent her the secret path to Ehrenfest's foundation much sooner, not stuffed it in a box where it was of no use to anyone until Sylvester was fool enough to hand over their uncle's papers.
And now, all Georgine needed was that one little thing that no one else knew was so important — already she was moving the pieces into position to acquire it — and then she would be Ewigeliebe's sword of judgment hanging over her old duchy. Already she was testing and toying with her prey. Having a way to make Ehrenfest hers had stoked her devotion to her old Geduldh after years hopelessly buried in ice. Why wait to begin shaping it to her liking?
Her first project was to remove that ridiculous Wilfried. At the time, Sylvester had a daughter on the cusp of baptism who was reputed to be far more capable, but as long as he had his precious, stupid boy, that girl would fare no better than Georgine or Rozemyne: exploited to prop up her brother or to buy time until he could be passed off as adequate, then discarded.
As expected, Wilfried was hopeless enough to fall into the most obvious of traps — and nothing happened. He wasn't disinherited and sent to the Ivory Tower or the temple. His guaranteed heir status was nominally revoked, but anyone with a sliver of insight could predict that his father would be looking for the first opportunity to reinstate it.
This past year, at the Royal Academy, Georgine's shortsighted husband and idiot daughter enabled her to make another attempt. Sending the boy to Ahrensbach as a groom would let Ehrenfest cast off a burden and collect rewards as though it were a sacrifice, if only Sylvester had the sense to take the opportunity.
But it was all for naught. As soon as the Academy term was over, Sylvester affianced his fool son to Rozemyne, his sham Leisegang princess, saint, and water goddess of wealth, a move that would restore Wilfried's place as guaranteed heir if it didn't tear Ehrenfest apart first. Did Sylvester truly believe that Leisegang could be fooled so easily? That marriage to an incompetent was a conciliation and not an insult?
Was he truly that determined to cast his capable and diligent daughter aside?
Just as Georgine had thought, Ordoschnelli's wings would never reach her feybeast of a brother — only Ewigeliebe's sword would do.
Hopefully my efforts to pry away our half-brother's protection will bear fruit. Her husband was already convinced that it was his own brilliant idea, and Ferdinand had been exceptional enough in his Academy years to earn friends in the highest ranking duchies who were not at all pleased by his present treatment. Too bad the princess who had delighted in his music had ascended with so many of her kin in the civil war; if only there were some way to interest the Sovereignty in the matter, success would be assured…
At last the tool finished decoding the parchment. Georgine carefully put Grausam's name stone away, then picked up his report and began to read.
As she made her way through the incredible text, she thought perhaps she had slipped into Schlaftraum's realm, but no matter how she looked at it, the report in her hands was real. No one but Grausam could have sent it, and he would never write something like this if it weren't true.
Georgine's lips stretched and curled into a grin. Safely ensconced in her hidden room, she threw her head back and laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.
Sylvester's daughter had somehow turned herself into a boy, or else forced him to pass her off as one. Grausam would be happy to get to the bottom of the matter if 'Lord Charlott' were to become a hindrance, but — this being his lady's niece — he was more circumspect in his scholarly urges than he was with the commoner Rozemyne.
As for said girl, she had lost no time casting Wilfried aside and attaching herself to her newly-available competent sibling. The two had flooded Ehrenfest's great hall with blessings as they sang together praising the Goddess of Light. And Wilfried — supposedly an honor student and still helpless as a babe — had let it all happen with a smile on his face as his 'heir' title was snatched away.
Count Leisegang even vouched for the 'miracle'! And Lord Bonifatius, gullibly devoted to his fake 'granddaughter,' voiced support for her new match!
Grausam suspected some kind of plot, but the intelligence from Veronica's former people was that around the time the 'miracle' supposedly occurred, Aub Ehrenfest rose early one morning looking quite poorly-rested, went missing together with his wife, and returned visibly discomfited. If there was a plot, it seemed that it had been perpetrated on her brother, not by him.
Had Bluanfah gotten carried away dancing with a fellow goddess? Had Sylvester's daughter realized that her gender doomed her in his eyes and taken bold steps to rid herself of her 'flaw'? Had Leisegang staged an unexpectedly creative coup?
Any explanation would please Georgine. Whatever had happened, her brother had been forced to acknowledge it publicly. If he tried to retreat now, he would only make things worse for himself.
And if Sylvester's daughters had Bonifatius and the Leisegangs behind them, maybe they didn't need him anymore.
Georgine still wanted that small, insignificant object that would open Ehrenfest's foundation to her. She still wanted the sword of judgment in her hands. But suddenly, seeing a break in the tired old pattern, she also wanted to sit back and see how Ehrenfest's weave would progress.
She took a moment to savor her glee and even a wry hint of gratitude toward the niece she had never met.
Ah, yes. I believe this will be an enjoyable show.
End