370: Bizarre occurrences

Bizarre occurrences

A flustered Arkin von Conradie, who had urgently requested a private audience with the Archduchess of Lanark immediately after the Prince's edicts, paced anxiously in the now empty Conference Room. Meanwhile, the Archduchess enjoyed a cup of tea that Bernard, one of the few veteran estate staff who had chosen to remain in Lanark to serve the new Archduchess, had prepared for her.1

She sipped the tea and let out an appreciative hum, acknowledging the quality of the herbs she had lovingly grown with her son in the garden her father had gifted her years ago.

"This tea is exceptional," she remarked with a kind smile. "Why don't you join me for a cup?"

He regarded her with incredulity. "How can you remain so composed in this situation?"

In her view, there was no reason for nervousness. Her son had just resolved Arkin's issues.

"Noctavian has made his stance clear. Your parents won't be able to object officially anymore. Just give them some time, they'll come around once they realize you're not leaving again." 

Arkin made a series of disapproving tsk sounds.

"I'm not concerned about the Baron and the Baroness. I'm talking about the duel! How can you not be concerned about that?"

Right. Arkin had just arrived and likely had no knowledge of Noctavian's battle skills.

"I strongly advise you to take him seriously. Underestimating the Crown Prince will only anger him."

Arkin would swiftly face the consequences, both physically and in terms of his dignity.

"But he's only seven years old!" He protested.

Adela was suddenly startled, nearly spilling her tea. "Be cautious with your words and where you speak them! Most people know him as younger than his actual age!"

Arkin looked at her as if she had lost her mind. 

"All right," she said, easing up once more. "Let's address all of your concerns."

"It's not just one problem; it's a cluster of problems." Arkin began counting on his fingers, listing them, "One, he is my nephew. Two, he is the Crown Prince of Emoria. And three," he paused, frowning, "He is seven!"

Adela nodded continuously as her eyes followed his pacing. His points were valid.

"He is your nephew, yes, but what's the issue with that? His Majesty was your stepfather, yet he trained you fiercely in that arena." She shrugged in an unladylike manner, recalling the early days when Arkin would come to the lake muddied and bloodied after training. "...Or have you forgotten that?"

Arkin was momentarily tongue-tied. "I never really thought about it that way. I was the Commander's son, a Baron's son..."

"Titles and training are not necessarily linked," Adela insisted. "We trained together a lot, didn't we?"

"Of course, I wanted you to be able to defend yourself, Adela," Arkin's face grew warm with embarrassment. "I would never, for the life of me, ever dream of dueling you! I don't care if he is a genius. He is just a child!"

Adela sighed, understanding Arkin's perspective. It was difficult to imagine a seven-year-old as a formidable opponent in a duel. But she knew that Noctavian was exceptional, and it was Arkin she was concerned about now.

"Why are you looking at me like this?" Arkin objected to the pity in her eyes.

"…I will end up healing you tomorrow, that is all I am saying." 

Arkin drew a sharp breath, almost choking on it, but before he could respond, they both turned toward the sound of heels tapping gracefully on the floor.

Adela's face brightened when she saw her sister, "Come, Lari, the tea is so good!" she exclaimed, gesturing for the headmaid behind her to pour a cup.

The beautiful woman with half of her hair tied up and dressed in a striking red gown that matched her fiery hair, smiled warmly. Although Adela had grown used to her sister's paler complexion, she couldn't help but miss the rosy cheeks Larissa once had.

Adela's mood soured at the thought, one sister robbed of her vibrant glow, while the other had a fragment of her heart torn away seven years ago.

"Is he getting nervous about the duel tomorrow?" Larissa inquired, unaware of Adela's inner musings. She settled into a chair beside the Archduchess, her hazel eyes following Arkin's restless pacing. "You should be getting some training instead," she quipped, a mixture of jest and earnestness in her tone.

Adela chuckled lightly, glad to see Larissa in a good mood. 

Arkin eventually found his way to the seat across from them. "…Are you two seriously suggesting that I, the former Commander of the Second Order and a mercenary who fought monsters for a living for the past seven years, will be defeated by a child?"

Larissa shook her head gravely, her expression serious. "You'll only make him mad if you look down on him."

Adela nodded, reaffirming her previous advice to Arkin.

"Noctavian may be seven, but he's almost twice the size of a typical child his age, and he's been training diligently with a sword for the last three years," the proud mother explained. "Your sword skills are undoubtedly more sophisticated, but when it comes to sheer strength…" She trailed off, searching for a suitable comparison to emphasize her point.

"Not to mention speed," Larissa added.

"Angela, please pour Sir Arkin a cup," Adela instructed the kind, smiling headmaid next to her. Angela promptly carried out the order, her demeanor displaying agreement with the points raised by the two noblewomen.

While Arkin contemplated their words and Angela's face, Adela's concern shifted to her sister. "We haven't had a moment to ourselves these last two days. How are you?"

Larissa smiled. "It's the same for me, whether in Kolhis or here. The feeling of having my every move watched through the windows is all the same... But it's you I'm worried about. How are you holding up?"

Adela grimaced, she had much to share with Larissa and Arkin about the events of the day, certain that Noctavian had gone to his grandfather to recount everything. However, for now, she wanted to focus on Larissa.

"Will you come to the duel tomorrow?" Adela asked, hoping to receive a negative response.

"...I must show my face to the public at some point, no matter how rare. They have to see me... I also miss Lanark so much."

Adela placed her tea on the table, her enjoyment of the drink now overshadowed by the serious discussion.

"Noctavian will be there, and so will Father. Plus, Claude should be arriving this evening, right?"

Larissa nodded, "Right. I know that I will be safe around all of you."

"What are you talking about?" Arkin couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Is someone bothering you, Lari?" His tone became protective and his expression hardened as he imagined someone causing trouble for Larissa. "Who dares to? Just give me a name..."

Larissa and Adela exchanged a significant glance, silently concurring that it was time to fill Arkin in on everything. With his new role as Noctavian's protector and ally, they couldn't afford to keep him in the dark any longer.

"She doesn't have a name," Larissa replied, her voice laced with sympathy as she discussed the woman who had tormented her for the past seven years. "People referred to her as the Oracle back then."

Arkin leaned forward, preparing himself for a revelation that he sensed would be even more bizarre than a former Commander of a Knights' Order dueling a seven-year-old the next morning.

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