◇◇◇ Father and the Fae Princess

A few days after Siegwald and Lieselotte had deepened their bonds with Fabian, Fiene and Baldur found themselves in the royal palace. They were here for a formal negotiation with General Bruno Riefenstahl.

The pair pressed forward in a long, empty hallway. Baldur had long since grown used to walking these halls as a knight-in-training; his stride was casual as a result. However, Fiene was a nervous wreck beside him. Every step was an awkward creak, her face was pale, and she was trembling from head to toe.

“Relax, no father would dare to deny a request from his own daughter! Even without the whole family bit, this is the kind of thing you should ask the general for help with!”

“Besides, the person most at risk here is Liese-tan—Bruno’s beloved eldest daughter. From everything I know, I’d consider him a caring father. There’s no need to worry!”

The voices of a play-by-play caster and a color commentator graced Fiene’s ear. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see them as deities of absolute authority; at best, they were a couple of nosy friends to her. Their encouragement did nothing to stay the tears in her eyes.

“Are you all right, Fiene?” Baldur peered in from her right.

“I, um, think so. I know I don’t need to be perfect or anything. But still, the thought of having an audience with a real general of the kingdom makes me so nervous... Ugh, I knew I should’ve tried to talk to him at home!”

“Unfortunately, His Excellency is a busy man. Maybe he would have a moment at the main estate, but he’s almost never home when working in the capital. This isn’t a personal request either, so I think it makes the most sense to speak to him in his office.”

Baldur’s response was delivered seriously, but they’d repeated this bit countless times at this point. Fiene knew he was right, but couldn’t stop a pitiful groan from leaking out.

“Ughhh, I knooow... That my brain wants to forget that fact just goes to show how absurdly big and sparkly this castle is. Is someone like me really allowed to walk on this floor? These tiles are shining. Honestly, I don’t want to meet ‘His Excellency’ behind this door.”

“Don’t worry,” Baldur said with the straightest face known to man, “Uncle Bruno is always nice to children.”

“Sir Bal, did you just call me a kid?” Fiene pouted. “I know I’m smaller than Lieselotte, but I’m old enough to be a proper lady myself. They’re already scheduling my debut to high society, you know?”

“No, well, I meant that you specifically are his child, and you’re also incredibly cute, so—”

“So you are treating me like a kid!”

“No, wait!”

Poking fun at Baldur helped relieve a bit of the weight on Fiene’s shoulders. Starting to enjoy herself, she puffed up her cheeks in an exaggerated way. Apparently, Baldur was genuinely worried that he’d soured her mood, and he quickly offered an explanation.

“Honestly, Liese told me not to share this with anyone, but the Riefenstahls have a soft spot for small, cute things. This goes for people too—His Excellency is no exception.”

Fiene thought back to what she’d seen in her sister’s room. It was full of pretty little dolls and toys.

“Generally speaking,” Baldur continued, “everyone in our clan and everyone we interact with are built fairly large. Frankly, we aren’t that pleasant on the eyes. Now toss in a delicate creature, so unbelievably perfect and charming—like you. What do you think would happen? You’d enchant us. You can tell as much from Liese and—more obviously—me, can’t you?”

Fiene ignored the rhetorical question and concentrated solely on making sure she didn’t step on her own dress.

“I had a feeling that might be the case, but Baldur says it out loud without skipping a beat!”

“I expect nothing less. His prey has already been trapped and snared, but he doesn’t let up on the overwhelming praise.”

The awestruck commentary fanned the flames of Fiene’s embarrassment. Unable to think of a response, she continued on in silence. Lieselotte was too sensitive to embarrassment, but her cousin Baldur was too dense. While Fiene fantasized about being able to even them out somehow, a death blow came in from left field.

“Basically,” Baldur said with unwavering confidence, “I’m trying to say that things will work out because you’re adorable.”

Fiene wanted to put in a word, but they’d arrived at Bruno’s office. Deciding that this was neither the time nor the place for a lecture, she simply sighed.

“Well, it’s a matter of fact that I’m small and childish. At the very least, you managed to clear up some of my nerves, so I’ll forgive you. But I’m still a bit anxious, so...here.” Fiene offered her hand. Unable to connect the dots, Baldur stood petrified in confusion. The girl grew impatient and looked up at him. “Take my hand. I won’t be scared if you do.”

Up until now, Baldur had praised Fiene so freely that it seemed as though he’d forgotten the concept of shame. Yet now, at the end of their long walk, he finally blushed.

────

“I bring you Miss Fiene Riefenstahl,” Baldur said, bowing to his master. Following his lead, Fiene entered the room and bowed as well.

General Bruno Riefenstahl had been in deep thought at the mound of paperwork on his desk until now. Hearing their greeting, he placed down his fountain pen and looked up.

“Very— Oh?!” Bruno squealed as soon as they entered his vision. This meeting had been prearranged, and he’d been given word of their impending arrival when they’d still been on their way. However, seeing the two of them like this left him at a loss for what to do.

“Is there something the matter, Your Excellency?” Baldur asked.

Fiene found Baldur’s distant tone and choice of words unnerving at first. But even though they were nephew and uncle, she remembered that their positions as knight-in-training and general outweighed their personal relationship here.

The marquis’s eyes flickered back and forth between Fiene’s blank expression and her hand, tightly clasped around Baldur’s.

“Uh, ahem. Is, uhh, is this...you know?”

“No!” Fiene shouted. Baldur merely tilted his head, but Fiene knew exactly what Bruno was implying and immediately shook off the boy’s hand. “We didn’t come here to announce a marriage or anything! We were just holding hands because, um, I was kind of nervous and... Anyway, that’s not what this is about!”

“Oh... I see...” Bruno didn’t even try to hide his dejection.

“Well,” Baldur said, “I will do all that I can to make it so we can report that to you one day.”

Fiene glared at Baldur, only for him to return a honeyed smile. The fact that he was making good on his word frustrated her to no end, so she turned away.

“Good to hear,” Bruno said. “Win her heart or die trying.”

“That was always the plan, sir.”

The senior Riefenstahl looked as though he was sending a recruit into mortal combat, and his nephew was just as somber in his answer. Seeing this scene play out before her own eyes was so unbearable that it made Fiene zip her mouth and stare at the floor. Noticing her attitude, Bruno suddenly shifted to a ginger smile.

“So, what did you come to discuss, Miss Fiene? Is there something at our residence that bothers you?”

Fiene vigorously shook her head. A mix of gratitude and shame flooded out as she rapidly denied him.

“Not at all, I couldn’t be less bothered if I tried! Lieselotte especially is so kind with all that she does for me! And the fact that you went out of your way to take in my mother and support us both kind of makes me feel guilty, but...I really am thankful for everything!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Bruno said softly. His gentle, satisfied smile was enough to soften Fiene up a bit more.

“Um...” Fiene took a deep breath. “Today, I’m here to talk about Lieselotte. My wonderful sister’s life is in danger.”

In an instant, Bruno’s tender expression lost all its warmth, sending jolts of tension through the air.

Fiene spoke of the divine prophecy and how it denoted Lieselotte as the Witch of Yore’s next target. She explained that the fainting incident and nightmares from the other day had been this villain’s doing. While Siegwald had saved her then, the gods had said everyone around Lieselotte needed to stay vigilant.

Fiene explained how even if the witch failed to corrupt Lieselotte, she would be revived at the end of fall to bring ruin to the world. She was to appear on the last day of the academy’s Festival of Gratitude, and Fiene asked for troops to be sent to the school on that evening.

Fiene stammered and stumbled over her polite speech at times, but she did her best to explain everything to Bruno in her own words.

“I want to protect my sister,” she said at long last. She bowed, and concluded, “Please, won’t you lend us your strength as well?”

Both as a father and stepfather, Bruno let out a long sigh.

“General this, marquis that,” he spat. “I’ve let this job eat up so much of me that I couldn’t realize what was happening to my own daughter. I’m a failure of a father... Pitiful.”

Bruno shook his head to dispel his frustration and shot to his feet.

“I swear, from here onward, I will do everything in my power to protect you and Liese both.”

Bruno stepped forward and laid a loving hand on Fiene’s head as she bowed. After he finished patting her, she looked up at him with a beaming face.

“Th-Thank you very much!”

“It’s time to clinch the deal, Fiene! Call him ‘father’!”

“Thank you...f-father!”

Immediately after being swept along by the god of play-by-play, Fiene covered her mouth in embarrassment. She may have been formally adopted, but she didn’t think she was close enough to Bruno to be allowed to refer to him as her father.

The man in question had frozen in place with a stern expression. Fiene attempted to remedy the situation with an awkward smile, but that suddenly caused him to wrap himself in a bloodcurdling aura.

“Baldur,” he said in a grave voice.

“Sir.” The boy instinctively stood at attention, awaiting orders.

“Forget everything I said to you when you first entered this room.”

“...Sir?” Baldur and Fiene tilted their heads in sync.

Bruno sent a deathly glare toward the boy. He stood to directly oppose his nephew, exuding the ghastly air of a killer.

“You will marry this girl over my dead body!”

“Huh?” Fiene said. “What are you saying? Hey, stop it. Can you not waste your warrior aura like this?”

It almost seemed like Bruno couldn’t hear her speak. He somberly placed his hand on the grip of his sword.

“Your Excellency, your true colors are showing,” Baldur said, exasperated. “Also, please don’t draw your blade in a place like this.”

“Shut it! I won’t give her to you! She’s too young to marry!” Bruno was clearly not going to back down. “I’m going to protect her in my brother’s stead!”

“You’re speaking nonsense...” Baldur sighed. Yet in spite of what he said, he was mirroring the marquis’s pose and was ready to unsheathe his sword.

“...Huh?” Fiene was dumbfounded.

And, as if he could no longer see her, the air around Baldur had also shifted into something more sinister.

“Well, I will cut down anyone who stands in the way of our relationship—even you, Your Excellency. Fiene’s love is the one thing I will not concede.”

Wasted warrior aura, exhibit B. In the time that Fiene spent escaping reality with a simple joke, the two men had grown more and more hostile. She rushed to assuage them.

“H-Hey, stop. Both of you, stop! Oh, neither of you can hear me, can you? Or I guess you’re just ignoring me? Uh, um... What the heck am I supposed to do?! We can’t spill blood in the royal palace! Oh—” It’s too late.

As soon as Fiene sensed the first hint of movement...

“Hrgh!”

...she kicked out Bruno’s leg. With the momentum of her kick, she took one step, then another...

“Gah!”

...and landed a clean uppercut on Baldur’s chin.

Neither of them had expected a third-party attack, and they stared at her in a daze. Their hands were off their swords, much to Fiene’s satisfaction. She nodded heartily and placed her hands on her hips.

“I will be the one to decide who and when I marry. Me!” Her short declaration was so overpowering that the two men could do nothing but awkwardly nod. “Right now, Lieselotte’s safety is the top priority. General, I take it that you’re willing to help?”

“O-Of course,” Bruno said with a hearty nod.

Fiene caught a glimpse of Baldur in her peripheral vision. He was positively enchanted by her air of dignity, but that raised a concern in the back of her mind.

“...Is he a masochist? Does he like getting hit?”

“I don’t recall Bal having any traits like that, but the look on his face just screams ‘I’m falling in love all over again.’ I’m sure it’s nothing. Or maybe it’s more like, ‘Wow, what a mighty warrior. You’re so honorable.’ Oh, or maybe he’s proud of how Fiene went from being too scared to greet the marquis to making proper negotiations! That’s gotta be it! I...hope.”

Concise suspicion and a wishy-washy follow-up left a bad taste in Fiene’s mouth.

────

After finishing negotiations, Fiene and Baldur put the palace behind them. When their carriage began to move, Baldur reflected on what had happened in a dreamy daze.

“That was wonderful. The speed of your kick that took out His Excellency’s leg stole my eyes. And just when I thought that was it, my vision blurred and a vivid pain ran through my body. I don’t even think Liese could pull off such a glorious one-two. It was beautiful.”

“You’re exaggerating...” Fiene was tired of this. While it was nice to be favorably compared to the sister she looked up to, being complimented for her skill in battle did not make her very happy.

“I know it was a surprise attack, but there aren’t many people who can land a hit on General Riefenstahl. He’s our kingdom’s finest warrior. While not as physically fit as he was in his prime, years of experience and tireless training have left him even stronger than he was in his youth. On top of that, your fist had the perfect amount of force at just the right angle to blow me away—I almost lost consciousness. Fiene, you’re amazing. First of all, you’re adorable. Yet you’re so incredibly powerful. I’m falling for you all over again. I love you, Fiene.”

Fiene stared off into the distance and ignored the talkative boy. Baldur seemed to take no notice of her attitude and placed a lovestruck kiss on the back of her hand—the same one that had slammed into him a little while prior.

“I never knew those words could bring so little joy...” For whatever reason, Fiene’s dejected murmuring caused Baldur to smile bashfully.

“So is he a masochist, or...?”

“Let’s chalk it up to a purehearted love for all things cute and strong, and leave it at that. Fiene, please do your best to look past the might-makes-right mentality of the Riefenstahls. More importantly, your boyfriend just kissed your hand and declared his love for you! We’ll go ahead and assume that’s the reason Bal’s blushing. Anyway, he’s super duper in love with you, so how about we put all questions about his kinks to the side and pay attention to him?”

The goddess’s breakdown caused Fiene to feel a bit awkward. After all, she still hadn’t totally made the status of their relationship clear. She looked down, dejected.

“Um, I’m sorry... I still can’t say ‘I love you too,’ Sir Bal...”

“I’m happy enough to know that you don’t dislike me,” Baldur said with a shake of his head. “I don’t need you to skip straight to love, but would you at least try addressing me more casually?”

“But you’re still an upperclassman and all... Can’t we stay the way we are, at least while we’re still students? I mean, Lieselotte speaks to His Highness in a really formal tone, and they’re already engaged.”

“That’s out of necessity, because of their social stature. In our case, you’re a daughter of the main branch, so you already outrank me. Besides, you defeated both me and the head of our family. You easily have as much, if not more prestige than me.”

As Baldur pushed, Fiene pulled; this was not the first time the pair had discussed their relationship like this. The girl sighed at her companion’s unyielding answer.

“Everyone from House Riefenstahl sure loves mixing up power and authority. This isn’t the jungle, you know?”

“Give up on changing that part of us. That’s just how we are. But as the strongest among us, you’ll be respected by all—that doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

“I know, but...it doesn’t make me happy to be called strong,” Fiene said frankly. Seeing Baldur eye her curiously, she explained, “If I didn’t win against those people that came to kill me, that would’ve been the end. That’s the only reason I got stronger. I wasn’t searching for some higher peak—I don’t have any noble goal to perfect my form or anything! Someone didn’t want me around, and when they came to erase me, I fought because my life was on the line. I wriggled around in my own blood and vomit just to see the next day. That isn’t the kind of strength to be proud of.”

After Fiene’s long soliloquy, Baldur hung his head without a word. He sank into deep thought as the girl continued to berate herself.

“My fighting style is the furthest thing from beauty. I always look for a sneak attack, use magic to strengthen myself, and only aim for the vitals. Do you know why I don’t use swords or knives? It’s because I don’t know how to. I’m worse than the thugs sneaking around alleyways—I’m like a wild beast sloppily fighting to the death. When I’m fighting, my mind clears in total ecstasy, which is how I know I’m not fit to be a proper lady. I’ll never be a real noble like Lieselotte, and I don’t want anyone to respect me like one...”

“I’ve got it. I’ll become so strong that you never have to raise your fists again.” Baldur cut in during a slight pause in Fiene’s pessimistic rant, and stared straight into her eyes. “I’m going to eclipse you, to the point that I brush you off as just another fighter. Then you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“Stronger...than me?” Fiene repeated in awe. At this moment, she finally realized what she’d been searching for. “So powerful that you’d never die on me... I finally get it. I want someone strong to love—someone that can kill the gods themselves. I’ve been looking for someone with absolute might that even I can’t defeat.”

“I will be that person. If you want me to slay the gods, that’s exactly what I’ll do. In fact, I’ll start by defeating the Witch of Yore myself.” Baldur’s solemn oath sent shivers down Fiene’s spine, freezing her in place. “And when I become the peerless warrior...I want you to marry me. It doesn’t have to be as a Riefenstahl—I’m more than happy to run away with you—but I want you to accept me as the only one fit to stand by your side.”

Baldur’s grip tightened around Fiene’s petrified hand as if he were praying to her. She soaked in the sensation of his fingers: the callouses, the bumps, the size, the warmth, and the strength. Wanting nothing more than to believe in these hands, she slowly gave a single nod.

────

The palace, Witch of Yore, Voices of the Gods, her stepfather, and Baldur’s god-slaying vow bounced around in Fiene’s mind. Exhausted, she dove into the sofa as soon as she returned to her own room. Too tired to change out of her uncomfortable dress, she merely stared at the ceiling...until suddenly, someone entered her view and stared back.

“Fiene, a little birdie told me you called Bruno ‘father.’” Her mother, Elizabeth, was peering at her with a wide smirk.

“Mommy?” she said, rising up awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. I know daddy’s my real dad, but it was, um...”

“It’s okay,” Elizabeth said, placing a finger on her daughter’s lips. “I know. Mommy and daddy wouldn’t ever get mad at you for loving Bruno like family. Besides, it’s not the same, right?”

“...Yeah.” Seeing her mother’s smile change to something more tender, Fiene nodded. “All those lovey-dovey stories you told me of daddy are just as important to me. When I met his brother, he was so nice that I started thinking, maybe this is what it feels like to have a dad, but—”

“You thought it’d hurt our feelings to call him your father?”

Fiene averted her eyes. Elizabeth was right on the mark.

“That, and I didn’t want to use that word until I was ready to inherit the house. But then Lord Endoe...” Fiene trailed off, thinking back on how the God of Play-by-Play had managed to sweep her along.

“Don’t sweat it!” Elizabeth said with a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to think about all this so much. August and Bruno were so close it was borderline weird, so I’m sure daddy’s happy too!”

“I...” Fiene slowly began to collect her thoughts. “I still love daddy, but the marquis is like a father to me too. I think they’re both really important to me, but in different ways.”

“And that’s completely valid. You don’t have to call him ‘the marquis’ like some stranger—I think ‘father’ will do just fine.” Elizabeth watched her daughter breathe a sigh of relief. Donning a mischievous smile, she couldn’t help but tease her. “I heard Bruno was ridiculously excited. In fact, I’ve heard that his troops are seeing hell because His Excellency decided to retrain everyone from scratch to live up to his cute daughter’s request.”

I wonder who she heard that from?

Barely any time had passed since Fiene’s meeting with the marquis, and she couldn’t help but wonder how her mother had come across this information. She knew that her mother had resurrected the web of intelligence that she’d commanded as the Fae Princess years ago; however, Elizabeth’s grasp on the minutiae of the royal palace was far beyond what Fiene’d expected.

“That might not be the only reason they’re retraining,” Fiene said. Apparently, her kick and punch had evaded the reach of her mother’s correspondents. Feeling a little guilty, she mumbled, “But it’s still my fault, so maybe I should go apologize to all the knights...”

“Hm?” Elizabeth tilted her head. “Well, anyway, everyone wins if that keeps Lieselotte safe, right?”

“Oh, I guess you’re right. Let’s go, team knights!”

“Yep, preparation is always key. A bit of overkill is just right! This whole situation is so abnormal that you should be using anything that you can get your hands on.”

The mother-daughter pair happily nodded along with each other. However, Fiene stopped when she happened to remember a certain prophetic message from the heavens.

“Oh, now that I think of it, the gods said that they wanted Professor Leon’s help. But he’s...difficult? For some reason? I don’t really know why.”

“Leon?” Elizabeth asked. “Chestnut hair, squinty eyes? Leon Schach?”

“Yeah, and he’s really lanky too,” Fiene answered. Truthfully, she wasn’t the biggest fan of the teacher. “The corners of his lips are always pointed up, but he never looks like he’s smiling. And his lectures are really easy to understand, but he never answers questions outside of class! I totally forgot that was his full name—he ignores anyone that calls him Professor Schach.”

“Wow,” Elizabeth said, impressed. “That kid’s a teacher now?”

“You know him? Professor Leon’s twenty-four, so...I guess he was eight when you left the capital sixteen years ago? I guess it’s not a stretch for... Wait. No, mommy, you were seventeen at the time, weren’t you? Why would you know him?”

“Hmmm? Well, your mommy used to be the Fae Princess!” Elizabeth’s nonanswer did nothing to clear her daughter’s confusion.

“...Well, you still look the part,” Fiene said while staring.

Even though she was looking at her own mother, the woman before her seemed like nothing more than a child in a grownup’s body. Elizabeth was caught off guard for a moment, but quickly smiled with all the innocence of a young girl. The fairylike charm that had been the root of her moniker was still alive and well.

“You sure are full of secrets, mommy.”

There were so many things that Fiene didn’t understand. Why did her mother still look so young? How large was her information network? How did she know Leon, and why did the gods want a quiet teacher like him? What made him “difficult” for them to recruit?

Although Fiene had endless questions, she had the feeling that the answers would be more trouble than they were worth. Instead of searching for the truth, she zipped up with a tired smile.