Chapter Text
SCHOLAR ROOM - ALEXANDRIAN CASTLE - FRUITDAY AFTERNOON
Sunlight pours through the vast, stained-glass windows, casting complex colored lines on the large conference table—made from rare Hauchletzte teigenehm bark. Everything in the room is sterile. The archnoble scholars seated around the table are almost indistinguishable from one another—expensive clothing, long sleeves, glossy hair.
HARTMUT, with practiced skin-deep perfection, sits near the head of the table. Gilberta jacket. Ochre silk gloves. Face of sculpted calm, but his eyes flicker—restless, calculating.
The drone of chatter permeates the room; the attendants are dead silent—only the scholars seated around the table dare talk. They’ve been talking about tax collection.
“Lord Hartmut, I thank you ever so much for looking after Philine. Italian… How impressive… How on Yurgenschmidt did you get a time slot there?” asks Roderick, a mednoble scholar, eyes desperate.
“I suppose Greifenchan smiled upon me,” answers Hartmut, dismissively, gaze focused on other conversations.
“I must say, that is a wonderful jacket. Let me guess… Othmar”
“Indeed,” still half-listening.
Roderick smiles, “It looks so soft,” he says while reaching out.
Hartmut’s attendant quickly slaps his hand away. Hartmut, with a look of disgust, adds, “The compliment was sufficient, Roderick.”
But then…
FERDINAND, smiling flawlessly approaches. Ewigeliebe-white jacket. Gilded red gloves. Not a flicker of emotion, steady eyes.
“Good afternoon, Cornelius. I must say, those are some lovely gloves. How are you doing?”
Hartmut looks dumbly to his hands, then smiles, suppressing a grimace.
Ferdinand has mistaken me for this miscreant Cornelius. It seems logical, because Cornelius also works at the castle and in fact does the exact same job that I do. He also has a penchant for Gilberta jackets and northern colors. Cornelius and I even share the same rinsham merchant, although my hair is slightly glossier.
“So, how is the Bindewald collection proceeding, Cornelius?”
“It’s proceeding alright,” answers Hartmut with a tense smile.
“Curious… It’s not going great?”
“Oh well, you know.”
“So how’s Leonore? She’s a great lady,” presses Ferdinand.
“Quite true. I uh… am counting my blessings.”
JUSTUS, ECKHART, similarly dressed, enter the room.
“Oh, Lord Ferdinand, congratulations on the Central District collection,” exclaims Justus.
“I thank you ever so much, Justus,” he replies with a satisfied smile.
“Lord Ferdinand, would you be interested in some ditter?” asks Eckhart.
“That would be agreeable. Fran,” agrees Ferdinand, calling on his attendant. The latter approaches Eckhart’s attendant and hands him a feystone. “Send the ordonnanz when it's sorted.”
“How about Earthday?”
“I’m afraid that would be impossible. I’ve got 4th bell reservations at the Italian restaurant. Great sea-urchin pizza,” answers Ferdinand casually as he leaves to greet another scholar.
All the scholars freeze for a moment. Eckhart is the first to recover.
“Italian for Earthday lunch… How did he manage that?” he says.
“I'd assume that’s not the whole truth,” Justus answers with clear envy in his voice.
Hartmut uses the lull to change topics. He calls for his attendant to hand him something.
Eckhart asks with a glint in his eye, “Liquid mana?”
“New ordonnanz. Opinions?” he asks with a smug smile as he spawns the bird from its feystone.
“Oho, excellent quality,” says one.
“Quite true,” agrees another.
“Picked it up from the brewers yesterday.”
“Good materials.”
“That’s schnesturm bone. The coloring is something known as Verfuhremeer teal,” gloats Hartmut.
Justus smiles back, “A wonderful ordonnanz, Hartmut, but look at this,” he says, growing his ordonnanz.
“That is indeed quite wonderful,” remarks Eckhart.
“Gumka bark, with Steifebrise yellow. Opinions?” adds Justus, smug.
Justus’ smile angers Hartmut, but he keeps it together. “Very good.”
“Gods, that is real excellence, how’d a fool like you get so tasteful?” adds Eckhart, chuckling.
I can’t believe that Eckhart prefers Justus’ ordonnanz to mine.
“However,” interjects Eckhart, “the best is yet to come.” After a small pause, he produces his bird. “Immerdink flammerzung. Translucent beak. Schneeahst white.”
“Impressive. Very nice,” eeks out Hartmut. Almost stumbling on his words, “Let us look upon Ferdinand’s ordonnanz.”
An icy atmosphere tinges the room, but Eckhart complies with his request. He grabs the stone given to him earlier and pours mana into it.
Look at that subtle Beischmacht white. The genuine golden blenrus base. Oh Gods, it even has a crest.