The Duke’s Reborn Daughter Sometimes Chooses Violence.

The maid had said there would be many carriages. Enough to block the pathway leading up to the manor itself. I had understood, but understanding and seeing were different things entirely. There truly were a great many of them, and they blocked not only the central pathway but most of the road far outside the manor itself besides.

The nobles who had demanded reserved spots closer to the manor were perhaps the wisest people in this city. I, at the very least, hoped I had shared in some of their wisdom.

”My Lady, My Lord, I think we should walk from here,” Anias said. She sat on the carriage seat opposite mine, and she peered out of the barely open window before looking back at us.

I certainly did not mind the walk, but my father was a different question. He sat on the seat beside me, a walking stick laid across his lap. Today was the day he had decided to reintroduce himself to noble society. Though, given that everyone in our camp already knew he was awake, this was more for everyone else’s benefit than his own. ”I’ll be fine,” my father said. ”A little walk will do me some good. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve walked those gardens.”

I nodded to Anias, and she turned to relay the instructions to the carriage driver. The carriage stopped. Anias opened the door. I followed her out, turned, and extended my hand toward my father. He took it. His hand was far larger than mine, though it certainly did not feel that way. He made it to his feet and planted the walking stick on the ground before him. Sere was next. I extended my hand to her too, but for some reason, she preferred to jump into my arms instead. She did so now. Luckily, I knew enough to condense mana beforehand, and so it was hardly a problem at all.

”Anias, why don’t you do what we did once? With your Gift? It’ll help tremendously, I should think.”

My maid looked at me and nodded. She raised her hand, and I saw the subtlest of purple glows settle around my father. I would not have noticed it at all had I not been watching for it.

My father blinked, and straightened. ”Ah, I see. Never realized you could use that Gift like this.” He gave one approving nod toward Anias, and then spared a raised eyebrow for me. ”When did you two do this?”

”It was after Ind-” I paused. ”It was after your friend died,” I said. ”I still needed to keep up the right appearances. Anias was subtle then too.”

My father nodded, but I saw the frown on his face clear enough. I could guess why. ”Well?” I said. ”Shall we start heading inside?”

He nodded, and we began our walk. First we had to make our way past the very long line of carriages currently choking the great Indri gates. After that, we would have to walk again just to reach the manor itself.

There was a reason for this. While I had stayed in Violet’s manor for days, I could not very well make my entrance to her ducal investiture from inside her own mansion. That would say things about our two Houses, and about us especially, that I would rather not be said. I had enough things to deal with as it was.

Carriages sat in place as we walked right past them. Many of the Lords, Ladies, and their sons and daughters glanced out of their windows to peer at us. Many of their eyes widened, and while I knew that much of that surprise was for seeing my father awake and walking, I liked to imagine that a good bit of it was envy at watching us stroll past their fancy carriages.

A large row of Karr guards stood at the gates of Indri Manor, and a small line of men and women waited in queue before them. Evidently, our brilliant idea was not ours alone. The Karr inspected everyone, and evidently, the nobles standing in that line did not appreciate this.

”Unhand me, you fool,” a short and pudgy man said. He wore a garment made entirely of some kind of golden fur. Expensive, if a little… out of place. ”Do you have any idea who I am?”

”No,” the Karr guard said absently. The blue-skinned Karr loomed over the pudgy noble, not that this made the man second-guess himself.

He only pointed past the line and deeper into the manor grounds. ”I will have you know that I have the ear of House Veyne itself. When they find out I was treated this way by a Karr-” The man continued on with his spiel. The Karr guards looked at one another and shrugged. One of them looked at the man and moved past the gate, no doubt to fetch the attention of someone who could deal with a man acting a child.

The ear of House Veyne, huh? ”I don’t remember him,” I said to my father. ”Should I?”

”That is Baron Esmeren,” my father said. ”He left Aelheim years ago in search of greener pastures. I did not think I would ever see him again.”

That explained why I did not have the slightest idea who this was. I had memorized the faces of just about every single retainer we had in Aelheim. To find one I had missed would have been vexing.

The man was somehow still going. Apparently, now he was pointing at his cloak, and making some comment about how fine it was, and how he obviously did not need to go through a standard check. I looked to my father. He gave me the briefest of nods, and so I turned back. ”Lord Esmeren?” I called out.

The man in question paused and turned, as if surprised by the sound of his own name. He looked at me, and for some reason, he smiled. ”Ah, Lady Veyne.” He bowed from where he stood. The rest of the line was looking from him to us now. ”I did wish to make your acquaintance from the moment I first stepped back into Aelheim. But it seems there has been a mistake. I come to my beloved city, only to be accosted by people less than rabble. Less than hum-”

”That’s enough,” I snapped. The man paused. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I talked over him. ”There is a procedure here. One for the safety of everyone. It is not an insult. It is not a slight. They are simply doing the tasks assigned to them, nothing more.”

The man nodded and seemed to genuinely consider this for one moment. In the next, he half-turned and half-pointed at the nearest Karr. ”I am no threat to anyone. If one is looking for someone dangerous in this crowd, they need only look toward the rabble allowed inside. All of us nobles surely deserve to be treated with the respect due to our stations.” At this, many in the line nodded along. It seemed that while nobody else had been willing to be quite this obnoxious, they had harbored the same thoughts.

”Very well then,” I said, crossing the line and stepping toward the cordon of Karr guards. ”I apologize for breaking the queue, but could you check me first?”

The Karr at the head of the checking line was particularly broad, even for a Karr. Any one of his four arms was probably thicker than my waist. He nodded slowly, and lightly patted me down. I raised my arms to allow the search. A second later, he stepped back. He had found nothing, of course. There was nothing on me to find. He asked anyway.

”Sword,” he said, never breaking eye contact.

Every soul in this Kingdom knew what I carried by now. I tilted my head and extended my hand to the side. Vaelin materialized in my grip. The sword gleamed white, but only barely. Many of the nobles behind and around me murmured. Some might have gasped. Lord Esmeren himself was staring at me with very wide eyes. The Karr hesitated before he reached out for it. I gave him Vaelin, and the sword rusted and dulled the second it left my hand. The blade’s impression rose in my mind, and he sounded…offended. Offended that I was using him to make a point.

I’ll make it up to you later, Vaelin. The Godblade did not answer, though perhaps he did grumble.

”There is a slight issue,” I said, pointing at the blade. ”I can recall it whenever I wish. So taking it is a slightly moot point.” Just to demonstrate, I willed the sword to disappear. A second later, it did, and the large Karr was holding nothing at all. The man -I assumed it was a man, it was hard to tell with the Karr- blinked and stared down at his right… at one of his right hands. I resummoned Vaelin, and he materialized again. ”I assume you can see the problem?”

The Karr slowly turned to the other Karr. He said nothing, though given what I knew of the Karr, that really did not mean much. They were telepathic with their own kind, so for all I knew, they were having a rather spirited discussion at this very moment. After an almost uncomfortably long silence, the Karr at the head turned back and regarded me. ”Keep blade, then. Don’t pull out.”

I nodded and dismissed Vaelin. It wasn’t like I had been planning to anyway.

I turned back to Lord Esmeren, and it seemed all my display had done was confuse him further. ”As you can see, I do not mind going through the proper procedure, for the safety of everyone.” I gestured at the line. ”I trust nobody else will have an issue with it either?”

The noble slowly nodded now, though his face had gone a distinct shade of red. I moved past the line and stepped through the gate. There, I waited as the queue slowly moved. People had started to notice my father by now. It was in the way they looked at him once, then again, and then a third time with widened eyes. In the way that many in the carriages had stepped out just to come near. Not even to talk to him, but simply to come near. Many of them whispered, and I could have heard much of it with my Gift. There was no point. I would be hearing plenty of it just fine today.

Eventually, the rest made their way through the line. Damian would be arriving with his father, and so our little procession was only me, Sere, Anias, and my father. Estovan had chosen to stay behind and guard our manor. From what, I could not say.

”That was handled well,” my father said when he passed the gate and came to stand beside me. ”I dare say the man might learn some humility today that he will carry for long after.”

I did something a Hero was certainly not supposed to do. I reddened. I turned from him and cleared my throat, though it needed no clearing. ”Let’s go then,” I said. ”We would not want to be late.”

The pathway leading up to the manor itself was no less crowded than the road outside had been. A finger poked at my side. I turned and saw Sere holding out her arm. I didn’t understand, and then a second later, I did. I held out my own arm, and she took it. It probably was not the smartest thing for a noble Lady to do, but it was hard to deny Sere anything when she asked it of me.

As it happened, Sere was wearing the exact same dress we had picked out for her on the day we had visited Madam Verner’s Boutique. It was white, with a high back that covered her from the nape of her neck down, and sleeves that fell just past her wrists. The hem ended below her knees, and when she walked, the fabric moved with her, catching the light in soft folds. Dressed as she was, with her hair actually brushed for once, she looked every bit a noble. Minus one thing. ”Keep your back straight,” I said. ”It’s important.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Sere nodded seriously, and straightened. We began our walk. But when I glanced back to check that the other two were following, I caught my father looking thoughtfully my way. He caught himself when he saw me looking, and moved to join us. What he was thinking about, I could only guess.

The tent was enormous.

It was one of three, raised side by side behind Indri Manor, and any of them alone could have swallowed the manor’s main hall whole. The second was for the reception that would follow. The third was for servants and maids. The first was for the ceremony itself, and it was into that one that I now stepped. Anias waited outside, alongside at least two dozen other maids.

The inside was not lit by the usual blue of Magical Implements. Instead, dark lanterns hung in long rows from the tent’s ribs above, and each one gave off a deep red glow. It was Indri red. The exact red of Violet’s hair, though perhaps that was just a happy coincidence.

Rows and rows of seats ran the length of the tent, all of them facing a massive raised dais at the front. A podium stood at the center of that dais, and behind it, the banners of House Indri hung floor to ceiling.

The rows were split clean down the middle by a wide central aisle. On one side sat almost entirely children. Boys and girls my age and younger or slightly older. On the other side sat their parents.

It was no wonder. The nobility of Aelheim, and indeed of Arian itself, strongly believed in giving children a chance to bloom without their parents. That was why there were several functions in this city where it was frowned upon for parents to attend at all. The Greenward Social had been one such event. Where I had talked to Cordelia on a quiet balcony, and shared a distasteful dance with her betrothed.

Or there was the Royal Academy, where children were permitted no contact at all with their noble houses, save for when they returned on their holidays. The custom was so strict that even the King kept himself from communicating with the First Prince during the academy season. I knew this, because the papers took great interest in sensationalizing everything to do with the Crown Prince.

I understood the concept well enough. In theory. In practice, it made little and less sense. I suspected all it truly accomplished was noble children acting as puppets and spies for their parents, rather than the parents simply being there themselves. But there was one benefit to this strange quirk of nobility. It meant I could see Cordelia, and be reasonably sure her father or mother would not hover over her head the entire time.

There was no crier here. Which was a good thing. Though, I think that was because Violet had refused a crier rather than it being custom.

My father stepped in behind me, and the moment he crossed the threshold, a voice rose to meet him.

”Lord Veyne! What a pleasure it is to see you.”

I turned my head and found Count Roderick Sterling striding toward us. The man was dressed well, in a formal black coat with the Veyne sword and sickle worked in silver at the breast. It suited him about as well as formal wear could suit a man built like a section of the wall he commanded. He reached my father and clasped his forearm. ”My Lord, but it is good to see you up and about.”

”I am as happy to be back on my feet as you are to see me on them,” my father laughed.

Count Sterling turned toward me then, and bowed. ”My Lady. You look beautiful today.” His eyes moved briefly to Sere. ”As does your friend.”

Anias had dressed me in a gown of black shot through with deep blue, silver-blue thread worked along the high collar and down the sleeves. It was the same style as always, only finer. My signature, apparently, whether I had chosen it or not. That, and Anias’ efforts on my makeup, both certainly helped. ”Thank you,” I said. ”You are too kind.”

”Come now, we have much to talk about,” the Count said to my father, gesturing toward the far side of the tent. ”Let’s sit and get on with it.”

Most of the seats were already full. There was no formal seating code here, save that the front two rows on the adult side were reserved for House Indri’s retainers. Beyond that, it was simply polite to sit where one’s rank suggested. That politeness, however, would not keep anyone from having to stand if they were not quick enough.

”You should go find some seats as well, Esra,” my father said, turning to me.

”If something comes up-”

He smiled. ”I am on my feet. I can handle some talking. Though…” He paused and looked out at the many faces. Many of whom were already staring back at him. ”Perhaps it will not only be some talking.” He sighed as he said it. That, at least, was something we had in common.

”Very well,” I nodded, and walked, idly pulling Sere along with me. I looked down at her and found her staring wide-eyed at…well, at everything. ”Don’t go invisible on me now. I would look very awkward.”

Sere slowly nodded and smiled, and then she gestured toward the far right corner of the tent, where a long row of tables stood stuffed with food. A great deal of food. All of the food would be carried to the second tent after the investiture was done. Why it wasn’t there from the beginning was a mystery, one nobody had been able to answer save that this was ’standard’. I had no doubt at all that Sere was pointing at the dessert section specifically.

”Violet has to give her speech first. Don’t go invisible to steal anything either.”

Sere deflated slightly at this, which told me that had been her intention all along. Come to think of it, a representative from Layers was supposed to be somewhere around here, weren’t they? Maybe I could go and meet them afterward, and introduce them to their single greatest admirer. Yes, that sounded like a fine idea to me.

On the other side of the tent stood the reporters with their many Scrylens. I counted ten at a quick glance, and had spotted several more outside. Dorothy was among them, inspecting her device with what I could only describe as singular focus. Violet had demanded her paper be in the tent itself, and so there she was. I tried to catch her eye, and never caught it. Oh well.

I scanned the people standing and the people sitting as I walked. I did not spot Julian Greenward or his wife, which was a good thing. Though they would attend, and were surely not far. I did spot Duke Thalos and Duke Wardell, seated near the front of the adults’ section. Lady Thalos was with them, though I saw no sign of Lady Wardell. I would have to go and greet all of them once Violet’s coronation was done. My father would probably go and sit with them soon enough.

I walked, and then I stopped. Sitting three rows from the front, in the middle of three other girls, was Cordelia.

She wore a gown of deep emerald silk. An emerald brooch sat pinned at her throat. Her dark hair fell in those careful waves. She was speaking with the girl beside her -one I did not recognize- her smile warm and utterly perfect, and I stood there staring for an uncomfortably long moment.

Then Cordelia turned, mid-conversation, and for a second our eyes met.

Her gaze held mine. Something in her eyes softened, just a fraction. Then the gaze slid away, back to the girl beside her, and her conversation carried on without so much as a pause.

I took a breath, and sat down near the end of that same row. Sere settled in on my left. A notepad tilted into my view. You ok?

”Yeah, I’m just fine,” I said quietly. ”I didn’t think she’d be here if her parents weren’t here yet.”

I wondered, idly, if Julian was busy at this very moment making certain he wore as many emeralds as a human body could physically carry, and whether he was making the same sure of his wife. It seemed the kind of thing that would take him time.

Sere nodded and flipped to a fresh page, and her pencil began to move. I kept glancing Cordelia’s way as the minutes passed, though she never once looked back in my direction. I wondered where Alexander was, if Cordelia was already here. Getting ready to make some grand entrance at Julian’s side, perhaps. Who knew.

I wondered where Damian was too, though given how many rows there were and how many of them had filled, perhaps he was already seated somewhere and I simply hadn’t spotted him. It was mildly surprising that none of the sons or daughters of my own retainers had come over to talk to me yet. In fact, the seats immediately around Sere and I had stayed conspicuously empty, even as the rows filled in everywhere else. Was my reputation truly that frightening? I haven’t done anything to anyone! Well, there was that one assassin, but nobody knows about that.

There was more conversation all around, and then two boys walked over and moved past me before settling into seats further down my row. They both gave me strange looks as they went. I recognized them, vaguely. Duke Wardell’s sons. I had only ever seen them in a portrait before.

Then there was noise, and muttering, and every head in the tent turned toward the entrance.

Julian Greenward stepped in, with Lady Seraine in tow. The two of them wore garments so heavily set with gemstones that they were very nearly blinding, even in the dim red light. They entered almost casually, as if arriving late to someone else’s investiture were the most natural thing in the world. Julian waved to the crowd. His wife smiled the perfect amount. Behind them came Alexander Bulwark, dressed in his House’s steel-grey and crimson, his dark hair combed back sharp.

They split at the aisle. Julian and Seraine made for the adults’ section, settling in among House Greenward’s retainers. Those were easy enough to make out. Just about every one of them wore elaborate jewels, or gowns cut so fine I genuinely wondered how the wearers managed to walk in them.

Alexander stepped closer to our side. His eyes swept the row Cordelia sat in, moving down its length, and found every seat beside her filled. He looked at her. He began to walk. Then he paused, and his gaze landed on me.

Vaelin stirred in the back of my mind.

Alexander crossed to my row and lowered himself into the empty seat at my right. ”Ah, how unfortunate that the seats next to my betrothed are all filled,” he said. Then his voice dropped lower, meant for me alone. ”But perhaps not so unfortunate, if it places me next to you.”

His arm settled onto the armrest between us, taking the whole of it. Beside me, Sere’s pencil had stopped moving.

I stared at him. I was very aware that a great many people were watching us. Hells, even Cordelia was watching now. Nearly a dozen seats between us and I still caught the small motion of her hand in her lap. Her ring turned.

”How unfortunate indeed,” I said, in a louder voice. One I made certain the children seated behind and in front of us could hear perfectly well.

Before I could say anything more, a hush fell over the tent. A strange crackle moved through the air, there and gone. I turned to the podium, and standing upon it was a man.

He was tall and bald, wearing strangely flowing robes of white and gold that seemed to move even when he did not. None of that was what mattered. What mattered were his eyes. They were sewn shut.

I stared at him. I knew who the man was. I had known one of them would be here. Seeing him surprised me all the same. There was only one type of person in this Kingdom who had their eyes sealed shut. The Kingdom’s Inquisitors. The King’s Confessors, as many called them.

It was said that to become an Inquisitor, one needed to see with more than their eyes, and so they stopped using them entirely, lest their vision be tricked. I had read that once, and not quite believed it. Now I was seeing it, and I still did not quite believe it.

Vaelin stirred again in my mind. The Godblade was leaning forward. And with the leaning came an… anger. My fist clenched at my side. I steadied myself. What is this about, Vaelin?

As always, the Godblade did not answer.

I was not the only one made uncomfortable by this stranger. Everyone had gone silent now, and everyone was staring. That was when the man spoke.

”His Grace, King Friedrich Wilhelm von Arianmere the Third, bears witness to this Ducal Investiture. As his eyes, I will see as he would see. As his tongue, I will speak as he would speak.” The man’s voice was oddly raspy, as if he used it little. Almost like one of the Karr, though I couldn’t believe his reasons were the same.

It was simply procedure, of course. For a ducal investiture, either the King himself had to attend, or someone appointed to stand in his stead. Even here in Aelheim, where a Duke’s title was worth little, it was still worth enough to warrant an Inquisitor.

It was also why I had been confident that even Katarina would not be foolish enough to show her face today. Not with one of her father’s Inquisitors standing at the front of the room. Doubtless she had tried anyway. And doubtless the First Sword had knocked some sense into her.

The Inquisitor’s shut gaze swept over the crowd, and I felt it sweep over me. He could not see me, and yet I felt seen all the same. Then he stepped back from the podium. ”Let us begin, then.” And at this he projected his voice, enough that everyone in the tent could hear. Enough that everyone outside the tent could hear too.

That was the cue. We waited in silence.

This was the part of the plan I had reworked with Violet only yesterday. The original had been simple and safe. Violet would walk in through the tent’s entrance, flanked by her maids in their finest. She would smile politely at the assembled peerage of Aelheim, make her slow and stately way down the central aisle to the dais, and deliver a speech I had written for her with my own two hands.

The new plan was… different.

The silence stretched. It stretched for half a minute, then a full one. The entrance at the back of the tent stayed empty, and slowly, the mutterings began. Heads turned toward the entrance, then toward each other. Even the Inquisitor seemed briefly puzzled, judging by the deep frown that creased his face, his brow furrowing over those sewn-shut eyes.

Beside me, Alexander leaned back in his seat. ”Perhaps the stage was too much for her,” he said. ”From what I recall, she was something of a she-beas-”

The tent directly above the podium tore. Canvas split and through it dropped a figure that struck the center of the dais hard enough to shake the boards. Red lantern light rolled off her as she rose to her full height, and it caught on a thousand overlapping scales the color of a deep winter sky.

Violet Indri stood at the center of the podium, dressed in a gown of dragon scales.

Every soul in this tent had seen pictures of the skull those scales came from. There was stunned silence. There were shocked gazes.

I smiled.