“Although you are but children, it remains your obligation to perceive your estate, liege house, your monarch, and up to the highest heavens where the goddess watches over.” The Mistress Beramontin said, her gray eyes scanning over Alve and her classmates. The Scholar favored pacing around the room while she conducted her lessons. As she had explained, ‘helped to keep the session alive.’ Classes with the Mistress had not been what the princess expected. Had Alve the time to appreciate her aunt’s patience when she was slow to catch on, Alve would not have passing regrets in the back of her head. Even the Lady Varvarahin could withstand a bit of her complaints. But the Scholar? She was swift, and she did not like complaints. Moreover, Alve felt from the Mistress the heavy spun of wind, like the force of the air dragging clouds thin. The Scholar did not have that sense last week.

“Pupil Marniel,” the Mistress called far back from Alve. There was a small exhale from her classmates when the Marniel was considered. “Stand and enumerate to me the major houses of Cheron. And start first of whom you are under.”

Alve could not see the Marniel who had taken the time to stand, his seat scrapping over the charon floor. Alve would not dare gaze behind at the Mistress, had not fear already swallowed her. But his stammer gave away of what many of them felt that morning. “Ha.. house… li-iege house Outern guides us, Mi-mi-mistress.”

“And?” the Mistress prompted.

“I… I… I do not know of the other houses, Mistress.”

The Scholar sighed. “Alright, you may sit down. I have all given you the assignment to advance read the first chapters of the Annals. Could you have tried to guess a single name, even your king’s own? You, pupil Ukriel, you seem eager. Apparently always so. State your liege house then the other major houses.”

“Eager to, my lady.”

There were small rumbles, “show off,” “leech,” before Jaimes Ukriel answered. Alve knew him of course. He was the one who had glared at her when the Sergeant Haisumen suggested to change seats for the princess. Now Alve sat at the front, right next to the doors for both emergency matters and the teacher’s own attention.

“Liege house, Stoopey of Storpie guides Ukriel, Mistress. And there are fifteen other liege houses who serve the crown, these are Adeyala of Adonis, Christiya of Chrasya, Cloud of Cludhern, Dagman of Daguman, Docturn of Douter, Edomia of Edomsa, Erodemon of Arondom, Grafan of Gruf, Jarick Scie of Jarice, Lumbart of Lumberione, Moroun of Maron, Oldotre of Oholdon, Outern of Oteran, Toronnin of Toutern, and Werleyoine of Werllone.”

Alve was impressed. She could barely remember the titles let alone each of their provinces. “Geography wise?” the Mistress asked, a proud huff in her voice.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Bright pupil. Now, can anyone tell me of their trade?”

The class went on like these for a time. The Annals of Cheron Sovereignty were first of the books Alve had received as a novice. It was thick like the others of her Analytics and Thravbon. The Pillar-States had a special way of distributing their books. In comparison to Alve’s premature guidebooks she used at the palace, theirs were written by many authors, entirely comparing and showing other ways to write Thravbon, or even simply talking. They were modules, the Mistress told them, all compiled together to accommodate the certain knowledge level novices, apprentices, adepts, experts, and the masters lack. But what truly made the princess giddy were the Histories of Entherah and the Literatures of Scholars. Just below Alve’s opened section of the Annals was a page of war maidens atop winged lions. She had unfortunately forgotten to advance read the subject at hand when images of such sky fighters enticed her completely. The princess did however prepare an ear for the Mistress’ questions.

Many of Alve’s classmates were responding with their own familiarities of their liege house family lines when one particular question was obviously addressed to her.

“Pupil Chonerin,” the Mistress was already beside Alve’s desk, the Annal at hand as she studied and waited for her response. The Mistress did not even bother her juggling of the two books opened on her table.

Alve stood and composed herself to account for her family’s ancestry. “My grandfather, former King Armoldeous Yovremnd Chonerin fathered three children, current King Arleous Yovrenobron, High Adjunct Alcvin Yomnd, and Prince Alvon Andaya. King Arleous’ fathered Prince Arlou Novron and Princess Alvedaima Novredin. While High Adjunct Alcvin Yomnd fathered young lord Savon Yod and lady Savana Yadrimon. Prince Alvon Andaya has no children.”

The Scholar’s brows furrowed. “But what of the women? Do they not require your introduction?”

Because she was never taught to, Alve defended inside. Her own aunt had not put value over herself and of the women who entered the Chonerin name. But Alve knew her family’s names by heart and she was eager to represent them. “Former King Armoldeous had taken two wives. Former Queen Laylic Novemron Chrovestera mothered the current King Arleous. Lady Consort Fahdyn Anda Christiya mothered the High Adjunct Alcvin and Prince Alvon. My mother was former Queen Conrade Padpey Cloud and the High Adjunct’s wife is the current Lady Mistress Dasia Zahroh Oldotre.”

After Alve bowed and had returned to her seat. She was confused when she noticed that the Scholar was still scrutinizing her. There was also the total silence in the room. Crushed by her classmates already excepting view of a monarch, Alve scanned her seatmates in question of what she had done wrong. Luckily, the Mistress saved her soul.

“I never knew that the Chonerin line was such a small stretch,” the Mistress started, Alve nodding in agreement. “Knowing King Armoldeous had recently risen as monarch, you are subject to acknowledge the facts, pupil Chonerin.”

For in fact, that was all Alve can generally tell. If the Mistress had wanted her to introduce the other branches of the Cloud, Christiya, and Oldotre families, the princess was willing to stumble with their names. But the growing whispers of her classmates was disturbing the memory.

“Enough!” the Mistress chided and the room felt silent again. “I believed you were barred from most of your own history, pupil Chonerin. Had you not been sickly, the High Adjunct would have personally taught you of this.”

The excuse was deserving to Alve, if she was not sickly to what people believed her to be. She had the time to learn dancing, why not about something her family had?

Then the Mistress smiled. It was the Scholar’s own secret care for Alve, in sisterlike to what the scholar had promised her to have. “Make notes then pupils,” the Mistress started as she lifted chalk for the writing board, “because I will be reviewing our lesson on the fall of a dynasty.”