Chapter 18

A proud member of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s hegemony…

Frianne disembarked from Countess Wagner’s carriage, silently digesting Countess Corelyn’s proposal as she walked by the maids and footmen who welcomed them to Gushmond Manor. Since their first day together, she was well aware of the slow pressure that the four Nobles from the Sorcerous Kingdom were applying.

Her work with the Court Council made her privy to many of the general missives and finely-detailed requests issued to the Baharuth Empire by the Royal Court of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Much of it would be considered foreign to regular aristocrats, who, while answerable to the Empire’s central administration, were accustomed to being autonomous within their fiefs as they worked to carry out the policies and directives handed down to them.

It was abundantly clear that the Prime Minister of the Sorcerous Kingdom, Albedo, was a bureaucrat. Or at least she communicated with the Court Council as a bureaucrat. Everything was qualified and quantified; pure, broad efficiency was measured from a top-down perspective familiar to how the officials of the imperial bureaucracy would view things. The content of her missives also carried the same flavour, using concepts and measures sometimes abhorrent to pure aristocrats.

Military integration. Manipulating nationwide demographics and the movement of populations from region to region. Slowly tuning the mechanisms of the state from a sterile, statistical perspective that even applied metrics to things like public sentiment and cultural adoption rates, considering them mechanisms that could be adjusted by pulling one lever or the other.

Prime Minister Albedo’s methods were inherently offensive to both the imperial aristocracy and the Temples, who saw it as an aggressive mass-dehumanisation of the nation and its people. Surely, at some point, they would all be assigned a number and treated like the Undead labourers reported to endlessly toil in the Sorcerous Kingdom.

The imperial bureaucracy, however, welcomed her tasks with open arms. To them, the Prime Minister’s missives were a work of art; the masterful strokes of a supreme administrative functionary to be admired and aspired to.

Her cousin could only shake his head as they had no choice but to acquiesce to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s ‘requests’. He would sometimes bitterly note in private that the vision of the Imperial Administration the Imperial House had gradually realised over the generations had been usurped. Though his rise to power required that he involve himself personally in the micromanagement of the state to make up for the shortfalls in the bureaucracy’s staffing, he assumed that he would eventually return to being able to issue directives to the Court Council and have the Empire’s excellent administrative apparatus do the work.

With the numerous problematic elements within the nation mostly purged, it was a system that he believed could be relied upon even if future Emperors were lacking in talent, ensuring that the Empire would function smoothly in generations without great leaders. Now, the Sorcerous Kingdom had taken the place of the one issuing the directives and the Emperor had been reduced to something like the head of a department called the Baharuth Empire.

To be certain, the burdens of leadership had been lifted from his shoulders. Prime Minister Albedo’s superlative ability combined with the principle amendment to imperial law was also making life easier for the Empire’s bureaucrats. The Empire, however, was no longer the master of its own destiny.

Frianne had assumed that things would continue along that vein, with the Empire being transformed into a pure bureaucracy. But then, the next phase of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s ‘attack’ came in the form of Countess Corelyn and her party. The four noblewomen arrived as ‘Angels’, reaching out to the disparate elements being cast adrift by the unfeeling march of progress and a bureaucracy empowered by the unquestionable might of their suzerain.

From the perspective of an imperial aristocrat, they communicated the same way; understood the same things; danced the intricate, purposeful dance of the aristocracy that only true Nobles could perform. They lived in a world where duty, obligation, tradition and pride were who one was; a world where protocols impossible for outsiders to imitate or fully grasp spoke volumes with every gesture and word.

She couldn’t say that she hadn’t enjoyed the time they spent together thus far. Though relaxed and leisurely, everything that came to pass felt purposeful and productive. It was more fulfilling and less wearisome than dealing with boorish and sterile bureaucratic functionaries or the throngs of admirers who looked up to her as a role model or a duke’s daughter. As a woman who had taken decisive steps to enter the arena of men that was imperial politics, Frianne found it a breath of fresh air and a glimpse into possibilities she had not considered before.

At first, she had accepted her role as host out of a sense of duty and obligation to the Imperial Dynasty and the aristocratic establishment, hoping to avert potential disasters and prevent other problematic strangeness from occurring. Little did she realise that it would become an experience that she wished would never end.

They were women who were accustomed to wielding power and authority. Furthermore, they understood Frianne’s position. What she was; where her boundaries lay and the chains that bound a princess of the Imperial Dynasty. There was no need for pretence – no tedious process required to ensure that propriety was observed and other parties did not underestimate or infringe upon her station.

As such, Frianne found that, for the first time outside of House Gushmond and the private interactions with her relatives, she could be herself. Like Frianne, they were all noblewomen with highly authoritarian leanings, yet they had tempered and balanced attitudes that – up until that point – Frianne thought only she and her grandmother harboured.

A part of her wondered what sort of traps awaited her, but for the most part, it didn’t matter. Risk came with relationships and, though the four from the Sorcerous Kingdom understood how the games of Nobles were played, Frianne detected little in the way of hostility or a desire to use her unfairly. If she were to put it simply, they played nice, which indicated a desire for friendship.

It was a tempting thing for any Noble and ill-advised in most situations. This was especially the case for a member of the Imperial Dynasty. A ducal house was a great house that stood both apart from and above all other great houses; she could no more forge true friendships with a regular Noble than a regular Noble could with a commoner. Additionally, to the nobility of the Baharuth Empire, the ducal houses were effectively enemies: they were pillars of support for the Bloody Emperor who caused the downfall of so many of their own and continued to suppress everyone else.

Others would admire her, establish connections and exchange favours, but friends? Never. It was simply impossible to truly consider someone who they knew could turn against them with lightning quickness a friend. For Frianne’s part, she never wanted to experience the feelings that would accompany such actions so she believed that it was better to keep her distance.

With the Nobles from the Sorcerous Kingdom, however, it was a different story. There was no bloody past that would overshadow their relations and, as vassals of their suzerain, there was no issue with their social standing. If one were to nitpick, Countess Corelyn and Countess Wagner would be considered as women occupying the same rough position in the social hierarchy as Frianne. No one would voice any protest – not that anyone would dare oppose officials from the Sorcerous Kingdom.

If she were to consider what she had absorbed as reliable information, she couldn’t detect any rational flaws in the proposal that they had unfurled before her over the past week. It only seemed to offer benefits for both herself and the Empire and the reasoning behind their overtures was understandable enough.

Furthermore, watching them work and have fun together made her envious and it was clear that they understood her feelings. Combined with everything else, they were effectively saying ‘you can be a part of us as well’.

It was an invitation that she wanted to accept. Still, other things prevented her from taking those tantalising steps towards happiness.

Frianne led her guests through the grand foyer of the manor and into the western wing. The early afternoon sun streamed through the tall crystal windows, casting its light over the vibrant rug and pieces of fine art placed on columns along the corridor.

“So what should we expect?” Countess Corelyn asked, “You appear to carry a great deal of respect for the dowager duchess.”

“My grandmother is a bit…feisty,” Frianne smiled slightly. “Two generations ago, she was an icon of the Empire. She was also one of the few people who the Emperor of the time allowed to confront him on various matters and she considered it her duty to do so. She has long withdrawn from imperial politics, but even the current Emperor steps lightly around her.”

“She sounds like a formidable woman.”

“In more ways than one. She is one of the only Bards to have graduated from the Imperial Magic Academy – she was in the class of the very same Emperor that created the academy of today. After that, she went on to serve in the Imperial Army and Imperial Intelligence at the same time. The Emperor of her generation offered her a post as one of the Great Imperial Knights but she declined, calling him an idiot for attempting to squander a valuable position on someone who was already loyal to the Imperial Dynasty.”

“If the Empire had such an influential figure in the past,” Baroness Gagnier said, “how did it develop into its current state? Investment of resources and talent is so…lopsided that one would be lent to believe that the people who laid the groundwork for future generations were all more ‘practically’ inclined.”

“It’s a very sore point for my grandmother,” Frianne replied, “and I suppose it is simply the way things are. Immediate and demonstrable results tend to be appreciated over the difficult-to-quantify benefits of arts and culture. She is a formidable woman, but, in the end, she was only one woman. Pulling the Empire in the other direction was Fluder Paradyne and his supporters.

“To my grandmother, the soul of a nation is something to be carefully nurtured and naturally cultivated under the watchful eye of its leadership. To her opposition, it is something to be analysed and manipulated; taken apart and reconstructed. A tool or a resource to be chained and exploited like everything else. The result is as you’ve seen.”

“Your treatise incorporates elements of both,” Lady Gagnier noted. “How did that come about?”

“After realising that she wouldn’t be able to gain any ground, my grandmother retired from the political stage to focus on the education of her family. I am more on my grandmother’s side of things, but her influence only goes so far. Fundamental Principles of Magocratic Governance was written to be digestible to imperial readers, as you’ve already noticed. The Empire of the present-day requires firmness in direction; writing it as my grandmother would is not an option if the concepts conveyed were to gain any purchase.”

They came to the large double doors of the family library. Frianne nodded to the maid stationed there and waited as she entered to inform its occupant of their arrival. A minute later, the maid appeared again.

“The dowager duchess will receive you now.”

Passing through the aisles of tall bookshelves, they found her grandmother seated on her usual couch in front of the library’s stone hearth. She did not look up from her reading.

“Grandmother,” Frianne said, “I’ve brought Countess Corelyn and her party as you’ve requested.”

“So I’ve heard.”

The book snapped shut and her grandmother looked up at them with a piercing sapphire gaze undiminished by her advanced age.

“So, this is what that boy is so scared of?”

Frianne cleared her throat.

“I have the pleasure of introducing you to Countess Clara Odilia Dale Corelyn, Countess Liane Loretta Dale Wagner, Baroness Florine Kadia Dale Gagnier, and Baroness Ludmila Zahradnik. My ladies, the Dowager Duchess of Gushmond, Katalia Ileste Van Gushmond.”

The Nobles from the Sorcerous Kingdom lowered their heads in respectful curtseys as they were presented.

“Your Grace,” Lady Corelyn said. “We’ve looked forward to our meeting. Lady Frianne has been a most excellent host, and I believe much of that is thanks to you.”

“No games this time?” The dowager duchess raised an eyebrow, “Well, that’s fine too. Have a seat.”

Frianne froze at her grandmother’s gesture. The maid hurried off. There were only two chairs on either side of the oak stand in front of the fireplace. It wouldn’t do to tell Nobles of their suzerain to sit on the floor.

Countess Wagner plopped herself down onto the carpet. The others followed suit. Frianne’s mouth worked silently, but her grandmother snorted at the line of young noblewomen seated in front of her.

“Just so you know,” she said, “I’m done raising brats.”

“A mother’s work is never done,” Lady Corelyn smiled up at her.

“Can we call you ‘oma’, too?” Lady Wagner asked.

The dowager duchess shook her head with a grumpy look, but she didn’t appear genuinely displeased. Folding her hands in her lap, her gaze went from face to face until her eyes settled on Lady Corelyn.

“You delivered that message to my Frianne,” she said with a stern look. “Why?”

“To see what would happen,” Lady Corelyn replied.

Her grandmother’s expression grew grim. She held out a hand.

“Show me.”

Frianne blinked in confusion. Her grandmother had withheld something from the message? She watched as the Countess drew a folded parchment from the pouch on her hip, stretching forward to drop it into the dowager duchess’ palm. Several minutes passed as her grandmother slowly scanned the page.

“Are you aware of the risk you’ve taken?” Her grandmother said as she set the page down over her armrest.

“No.”

With another shake of her head, the dowager duchess crumpled the paper up into a ball and tossed it into the fire.

“Since Frianne likes you,” she settled back into her seat, “and because I think you’ll be good for her, I will warn you now. Stop digging. Don’t let anyone know that you’ve tried. Recall any agents you’ve dispatched to collect information and tell them to forget that you ever asked. If you don’t think they can hold their tongues, dispose of them. Then pray that no one has noticed what you’ve done so far.”

“Do you know anything about this subject?”

“No. I only know that anyone who does – anyone who even tries piecing things together – disappears.”

Lady Corelyn exchanged looks with the others, seemingly conversing through their gazes alone. Frianne wondered how close they were to be able to do that. After a few moments, they looked back up at the dowager duchess.

“We can’t stop,” she said. “This is too important and it will happen anyway. Thank you for your warning, however.”

“In that case,” her grandmother replied, “promise me that you’ll leave my family out of it. The Empire may believe itself to be secure and powerful in its own right, but we’re next to nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Lady Corelyn nodded. “You have our word. It is something that the Sorcerous Kingdom will deal with on its own.”

“The Sorcerous Kingdom, huh. I’ve heard a lot about our new suzerain, but you’re the first officials from there that I’ve met. Frianne thinks highly of the four of you, but she’s young and impressionable. As are you.”

The dowager duchess fixed them with a look.

“Do you know who it is that you serve?” She asked.

“Your Grace’s question implies that you already know the answer.”

“I’m a Bard,” her grandmother replied. “An old one. I’ve seen a lot; been to a lot of places. Most of the world doesn’t suffer from mysterious wide-scale memory loss like these parts do. Word of the Sorcerous Kingdom has long been spreading. Beyond our awareness, those with knowledge will understand who your new masters are…and they will make preparations of their own. The Empire has affiliated itself with the Sorcerous Kingdom. It isn’t as if there was much of a choice, but I’ll be damned if my home is destroyed due to the ignorance of our new overlord.”

Frianne looked between her grandmother and Countess Corelyn as their exchange went back and forth. She had no idea what they were talking about and it sounded as if her grandmother was shielding her from dangerous knowledge. A bitter feeling rose within her. Despite being an adult lauded as a ‘genius’ by the Empire and a valued member of the Court Council, she was being treated as a child.

“We have no reason to doubt that His Majesty is not aware of what is going on,” Countess Corelyn said. “You are right about one thing, however: our histories are mysteriously lacking for some reason. That means my friends and I are mostly ignorant of the past as well as of the world beyond. May we rely on you to correct this deficiency?”

“Well I said what I did, didn’t I?” The dowager duchess replied, “But not all at once. The world’s a big place.”