Nobility 3

The next day comes and Win wakes up early. As he always does in the morning he starts to swing his sword. Since Marcus died and he was left to his own devices, Win still has not missed a single day of practice. Every day he feels like his art is slightly more complete.

Win keeps practicing throughout the day, far more practice than he typically would undertake, just to keep himself occupied. He’s bored out of his mind in the manor, especially as he cannot afford to lose himself in reading with plans for the day. If he were to read they would never get him out of the library, and so he can only swing his sword, the boredom almost dulling his blade.

Come noon Win and Adalhaid share a small lunch. Immediately after they are off to the palace, accompanied by a guard. Even in this situation, Win does not remove the sword from his waist. That was the one thing he could not agree to. His father said nothing when he saw his conviction, and neither Duke Leafa nor Adalhaid spoke of it since.

The two of them quickly reach the palace. The guard at the gate seems to recognize Adalhaid. With a nod and a wave the two of them are welcomed in. Immediately greeting them is an intricate garden, finely crafted, one of the royal family’s finest shows of grandeur. Win has always been the observant sort, so even as they try to hide within their work, he spots many of the gardeners in the royal family’s employ.

Although they walk near the entrance to the palace proper, the prince’s gathering is to be held at one of the garden’s many gazebos, and as such they do not enter. They walk around the palace until they come across a group of teenage noble children sitting around chatting. While Adalhaid is quick to join them, and the group seems quite happy to see her, Win, a shut-in, of course feels out of place. He only accompanied Adalhaid out of a sense of obligation, but he truly has no interest in these sorts of things.

He decides to take a look at the gardens surrounding them. One flower, familiar and a deep blue in hue, much like the color of his eyes, predominates the surrounding area. The flower immediately stood out to Win. It’s the same flower his mother fancies, the same flower grown in the manor’s gardens, and the same flowers he leaves for Marcus. Win hardly even notices when Adalhaid beckons him over to the group.

Win walks up beside Adalhaid and looks at the rest of the nobles. They all seem to evaluate him the same way, and Win can only assume they see him as some brute. Meanwhile Win can only see them as weaklings without any of the intensity he had come to expect of the next generation of nobility.

“This is Winfred Lufian. He happened to be visiting the city today so I thought to have him accompany me.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintances. Here’s to a long, worthwhile relationship.” Win can only hope that he truly has them fooled into finding him honest, and that they cannot see through him to know he would rather never speak to them again.

They each introduce themselves to him. Most are, like Win, the children of margraves. Having studied the current state of the kingdom, he knows the states of their home territories. Dagobert Lufian is a uniquely wise and skillful tactician, with a uniquely advantageous territory to govern. He does not need to fear invasion. Many other marches in the kingdom, meanwhile, are in deadlocks that many fear might evolve into war at any moment, even if such a thing has little to do with Win or the Lufian family. Win finds it somewhat shameful that they have come to cavort with each other in the palace gardens while their people suffer and fear all-out war, though he knows he is just as much a participant as them.

“Your territories…” Win almost loses himself in the moment and speaks frankly, openly reviling them for the injustice he sees in them. “Is everything well along the other borders?”

They happily answer him. Much to Win’s chagrin, he’s drawn himself into this conversation. Each of their reports are similar. They each report that there have been few changes, and that the situations are entirely handled. Their families have fully secured both personal and national protection. Win knows that they simply answered the question he had asked, but he still must hold his tongue at the lack of a single thought spared for the people.

Win hardly cares that they each practically lied to uphold their family honor when faced with that lack of care. It pales in comparison. Win, having been briefed by his father for the past few years, is well aware of how dire their situations are, and of the precious few soldiers the Lufian family could spare them. He hadn’t expected an honest answer in the first place.

Win is equally aware of how that has affected their people. Villages near the border have faced raids in the night. The people, hard-pressed enough by potential war, have now faced a poor harvest. All throughout the kingdom, even in the Lufian territory, banditry is on the rise. It has not been a good year for the common man. Win isn’t sure whether he would rather them be looking away from such a thing or entirely ignorant of it. He finds both disgraceful.

Win stops responding as it begins to get too hard for him to hold back his anger with them. He finds them lacking the necessary virtue. Dagobert hardly leaves the Lufian territory because he is devoted to his own land and people before anything else. Yet all these people, with a worse problem to deal with at home, have come from much farther. Win must remain silent, or else he will spit out that they will not grow into proper lords. All Win wants now is to leave.