[778] – Y03.078 – Vonda of East Lake V

[778] – Y03.078 – Vonda of East Lake V

Minister Florence remained silent, watching the scene with the eyes of a hawk who hungered for blood. Though she had spotted many tiny cuts, she had yet to strike. She watched, perched from nearby, continuing to silently watch.

‘Ridiculous...’ Baron Barthold stared at the young knight who stood with shaking legs, sheathing his magical blade away. A pair of guards had already stepped nearer while the duel was prepared, though had stepped even closer after William’s defeat.

The sound of a clap broke the awkward silence. The Baroness smiled, continuing her gently slow clap. “It was such a wonderful duel, Sir William, Executive Adam. Since the victor has been called, the right of marriage has passed through to your hands, Executive.”

“That...” Barthold began, before noting how red Adam’s face had become, as well as the vicious look in his eyes. He had never seen anyone glare at him so furiously before, the hairs standing on the back of his neck. “You should lower your impudent gaze.”

Adam tilted his head, his forehead pulsing. He raised his brows expectantly, and though he wanted to throw back a retort, his throat tightened, forcing him to remain silent. Adam crossed his hands behind his back and made to step forward, ready to challenge the Baron’s authority, however, he found a hand on each shoulder.

“You fought well, Executive Adam,” Vonda said.

“Are you going to allow a noble to rile you up that much?” Dunes asked. “You’ve already embarrassed him enough.”

Adam’s neck tightened, before he let out a soft sigh, feeling his frustrations leave him. A small smile approached on his face. “Of course. How glad I am that we have such capable Managers at our side, isn’t that right, Executive Jurot?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

Minister Florence noted the other young Iyrman’s gaze fall upon her, and she supposed it was time for her to step forward. “I have witnessed the end of the duel. The matter of the duel is over.”

“Our gratitude to the great Minister Florence for your assistance in this matter,” the Baron said.

Minister Florence smiled, though made no motion to leave. How could she, when she had come here for a particular matter which concerned someone of great rank to deal with a great issue?

“Now that the matter is over, I will continue with my-,” Vonda began, only to be cut off by her father.

“You should think this through, Vonda,” Barthold began, his eyes holding a deep glare. “We will accept this half elf, and your children will continue the name of Eastlake.”

“Pfft.”

Eyes fell onto Adam, watching him as he shook slightly, keeping his laughter inside. He held a fist over his mouth to keep himself from laughing too hard.

“If you have something to say, speak freely, leaf ear.”

“We were not informed of the order’s involvement.”

“Though it may have broken common etiquette, it did not break any laws of the land,” the Minister stated, pushing up her glasses using her ring finger, her head tilted backwards slightly as she looked down upon the nobles.

The Baron grit his teeth together, his neck pulsing. It was rather rude of the Order of Life’s Rose to shirk them this way, ignoring the common etiquette of informing the noble family of their support to free their daughter of her family name. Of course, it was only beneficial for the order. The Baron could write a letter to send someone to find if they had forced the situation, but that was extremely difficult, especially considering Vonda had grown up with the order, and the order currently held so much influence from their involvement with ending the civil war.

“Minister Florence,” Vonda called, before bowing her head. “I understand.”

The Minister reached into her robe and pulled out a bottle of near clear cider, motioning with her hand to pour it into a clear cup, while a small pin floated towards the young woman. Vonda pricked her finger, before dripping a single drop of her blood into the pear cider, and pressed her finger into the piece of paper, before it rolled up, magic wrapping a ribbon around the scroll.

“This is the last of your noble blood,” Minister Florence said. “Once you drink you will no longer be considered a noble of the Eastlake family, but simply Vonda.”

Vonda immediately threw back the cider, keeping a neutral expression as the alcohol, with the single drop of her noble blood, disappeared.

Minister Florence held out a hand. “Sir William, I will need to borrow your blade, since it is the most suitable for someone of Sister Vonda’s stature.”

William, not wanting to offend a Minister of all people, undid his sword belt, offering it to the Minister. The blade shifted slightly from an invisible force, before the Minister, an older woman, held the large magical blade with a single hand, and with a fluid motion, pressed the side of the blade against the slightly bowed Vonda’s shoulder, starting from the left, and finally the right. Although it was expected the woman should kneel, to as a priest to kneel was rather awkward, even for the Minister.

“This is all your fault, leaf ear,” the Baron almost snarled towards Adam. If the business was somehow Vonda’s guarantor, the Baron could have done something, but his hands were, seemingly, tied.

Adam, seeing how furious the Baron had become, smiled. Making nobles angry had a certain pleasure to it, and Adam’s heart beat quickly, the addiction of such a pleasure beginning to set in. He could feel Dunes’ presence beside him, the young Aswadian watching the process with interest.

‘Is that all?’ Dunes wondered. Such an affair was vastly different within Aswadasad, though it was almost unheard of. Within Aswadasad, one was not simply an individual of a family, but a part of the family, that was to say, if you were Vonda of Eastlake, you were an Eastlake before you were Vonda. Though, Dunes supposed that Vonda may have been of Life’s Rose before she was Vonda.

The sword floated back towards William, who awkwardly grabbed the blade from mid air, wore the blade once again. His blade had felt almost weightless when he had grabbed it, but now that it was on his body, it was even heavier than before, especially with the glare of the Baron upon his back.

“Now that the matter is resolved, we should leave,” the Minister said. “I expect you will escort my return.”

“Okay,” Jurot replied.

“Ah, before we go,” Adam began, standing a little taller, crossing his hands over his navel, as Mara would do. “As an Executive of the United Kingdom, I wish to inform you of our formal refuse for your offer, Baron Barthold Eastlake.” He bowed his head ever so slightly, which did little to hide the widest smug grin upon the half elf’s face.

Such delicious trouble was caused.