Ruena never would have thought that such a fine bed would be so uncomfortable to sleep in. It was hard to imagine she had once slept in that very bed every night. It was even harder to imagine her future now that she had returned. She had made a scene, and there was no way anyone would forget. However, that scene had been a complete mess, and she was left dealing with all the problems she had left behind. As much as she hated to admit it, Velcorna had been right.
The next morning, Ruena was awoken by a servant, something she hadn't even considered. There were servants here she would have to take care of as well. Each of them were likely wondering what was to become of them now. Her first step should be ensuring that those willing to be loyal to her felt secure.
But how? Servants needed money, and she couldn't foolishly squander her father's fortune that even Velcorna had kept safe all this time. She needed more information on how the noble house of Alodan was run.
"Is there a steward or butler that keeps track of the records of this household?" Ruena asked the maid who awoke her.
"Of course, my lady," the maid confirmed, "The Head Butler has been eagerly waiting to meet you since last night."
Head Butler? Now that she thought of it, the term did seem familiar. Who had that been when her father was still alive? Ruena could remember a vague impression but not a name or a face. That made sense, as she had been just a child. She had to keep her guard up, though. This man may be a faithful follower of Velcorna and not the gentle man who gave her sweets behind her mother's back.
"Little Miss," the elderly man greeted with a rather wrinkled smile, "I am so happy to see that you have returned safely home."
Even though she could not remember his face, Ruena was certain this was the same Head Butler from her distant memories. That was a great relief. In that case, she could trust him, and would be able to help her adjust to her newfound duties. Even if he couldn't help, he should at least be able to advise her on who she could trust to ask instead.
"I wish I could say it is good to be back," Ruena told him, "but I barely remember anything about this place and I don't have the first clue how to run such a prestigious dukedom. I was hoping you would be able to help me get started."
"Of course, my lady," he affirmed, turning from the gentle old man into a dignified butler, "Since it has been so long, I should introduce myself to you properly. I am Leopold, the Head Butler of the Alodan house. It would be my pleasure to help our future duchess settle in."
"Thank you," Ruena told him, "I would like to see the study where all of the paperwork is managed. Feel free to tell me whatever I should know along the way."
"In that case, I shall begin by telling you the important points of the history of the Alodan house," Leopold decided and guided her through the mansion, "The very first Duke of Alodan was granted his title after wedding a princess of the direct royal line of Altea. Because the royal blood flows through the veins of the Alodan family, they were named protectors of Altea, and heirs if the worst were to come to pass."
Leopold continued his explanation as they walked. He spoke of the origin of the lion crest, a symbol for the first duke’s Cat ancestry. Cats were not what Ruena had expected. She was aware of the magical species able to turn from animals to human, each named after the animal they represented. If that was really true, it explained her hereditary golden eyes and her ability to get along with felines. Admittedly, the latter was partially Jazz’s fault. She would never have even noticed if the cat disguised kitica hadn’t gathered all of them in the first place.
Since the rise of the dukedom, the Alodan’s had specialized as a warrior family. Mercenaries, knights, and even heroes had been produced from the Alodan line generation after generation. Even the title of Weaponsmaster had been in the family for four generations. If Ruena succeeded, that would make her the fifth.
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“Before we enter the study, there is one more thing I should warn you of,” Leopold began, pausing before the door, “Since early this morning, certain letters have arrived for you. I recommend throwing them in the fire without even a second glance, my lady.”
Certain letters? And ones he thought she shouldn’t even bother to read. That didn’t bode well. However, she couldn’t afford to just ignore noble society after her disaster of a debut the day before. Ruena opened the door to find the desk piled high with the letters in question. It was a stack impossible to miss. She plucked the one off the top of the stack and opened it.
“So that’s what you meant,” Ruena groaned. She hadn’t even had to read the whole letter to realize exactly what was going on, “Poor pitiful ducal heiress who needs guidance through marriage. Really? I thought nobles were supposed to at least pretend to veil their greed.”
“That is their attempt to hide it,” Leopold commented, “Would you like me to help you burn these?”
“Yes. It is just as you said. None of these are worth wasting my time on,” Ruena agreed, “If there are any letters that are actually important, make sure to set those aside.”
If only Soral were here. Once he rose as a hero no one would dare propose to her then. Even nobles wouldn’t be so bold. That was, if Soral still wanted to remain by her side once he succeeded in achieving her dreams. Ruena could not shake the nagging fear that she was holding him back and he would one day abandon her to spread his wings.
==========
The permanent disappearance of the Blacksmith? Was he suggesting murder? “I can’t kill him,” Soral refuted immediately.
“I never expected you to,” the being scoffed, “My plan is a fate far worse than death. You don’t need to worry about the details. All you need to do is take my host somewhere far away from here and keep him safe.”
“Your host?” Soral asked, “Do you mean the boy? But all he wanted to do was fight. What if he won’t listen to me.”
“He will if you fight him,” the being advised, “Defeat him and take him by force. Take the others if you wish. I don’t care.”
Something about this being really set Soral on edge. “I will rescue and protect him, but I have to know what happens to the Blacksmith,” he decided.
The being’s eyes married to even finer slits before it spoke again. “It seems I have no choice. I will allow you to help me catch him. However, you must never let my host find out that the Blacksmith is gone.”
An odd request, but Soral couldn’t push any farther than he already had. “Alright. Do you know where he is?”
“Follow me,” it beckoned.
Soral did, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was walking willingly into the trap he had just narrowly avoided. Perhaps on account of not having legs, the mysterious being moved remarkably fast. Speaking of mysterious beings, he needed to call this thing something. Ghost? Wraith? It reminded him of the legends of phantoms, but he wanted to be a little less obvious. What if he just made it sound similar?
“Reisu!” Soral exclaimed as the idea hit him.
“What?” it asked in confusion.
“It’s the perfect name for you,” Soral explained, “I need to call you something other than mysterious foggy cloak being.”
“If that makes you feel better,” the being allowed.
Despite agreeing to it, Soral couldn’t help but feel that Reisu was upset. It continued to set a faster and faster pace as it flew through the halls. Soral stubbornly kept up no matter how fast the pace got and they soon found themselves before some sort of laboratory. Standing at the center, doing some sort of complex test was the very man they were looking for.
“Ah, my prized creation, and my special guest,” the Blacksmith greeted, “I just made the most interesting discovery. Perhaps it should be expected that two of the most powerful people I have found are related by blood. The Hero and the Blade. A perfect match.”
“Related by blood?” Soral asked warily.
“Yes. My finest Blade is your brother.”
