Siegfried sat with a book in hand.
Simply reading books has been his… pleasure, he supposed.
Not joy, not comfort.
But absence.
A world without the complexity and nuance of this one.
A world that demanded nothing of him.
In the books, people laughed at benign things.
Rage at something inconsequential.
Cheered at mediocrity and yet, he envied them.
The words moved something in him—just enough to know it was missing.
A knock then shook him off his thoughts.
"Enter." He said as the door opened.
"I see you've made yourself at home here."
"As My Prince's general, I have deigned this to be my quarters."
Marianne gestured at the hall, "This is a library."
"Yes, it is also filled with various fiction, I find to my liking."
"No." She commanded.
"I don't believe you have the authority to stop me."
"Your current quarters will reflect poorly on your master and mine. Is that no reason enough?"
Siegfried sighed. "Yes, it is."
"If it's any consolation to you, I can have a library built in your quarters."
"It is, you have my thanks." He stood, ready to leave.
She stopped, almost as an afterthought.
"Also, do you plan on wearing that all day?"
"My uniform should be adequate."
"Adequate isn't enough for one of your position."
He furrowed his brow, "Why?"
"It simply is." She shrugged, "C'mon then. It'd be best for us to handle this while we still have time to do so."
He snapped his book close, "If I must."
Once more the world has demanded something from him.
Another trivial pursuit, one for vanity and reputation.
He rose without complaint, walked to her side and asked, "What will you have of me?"
"You make it sound like its such a chore."
"It is." He stood by her side, a head taller. "I see no reason to change."
Marianne smiled, "People need to see opulence, need to see stability. Even if it's not there."
Siegfried stared at her, "I understand. Lucien taught the same thing, even now."
"He has? How long have you been together?"
"Not long enough for him to realize it is no use to try." He remarked drily.
"You sound like you've just given up."
"I have." Siegfried admitted as an awkward silence settled between them.
And for once, Siegfried didn't appreciate the silence.
They weaved around the palace's labyrinthine hallways.
The gold and crimson scattered across the palace as guards stood at their post.
Children ran around with laughter, maids and servants running behind them.
"Oh, that institution you opened up has caused quite the stir." Marianne said, nodding toward a pair of children racing past.
"Of course it will, Lucien is in great need of loyal learned men."
"And your soldiers are teaching them… it's clever. Disturbing. But clever."
"Civic values must be taught. As must discipline."
"Is that why you opened recruitment?"
"It serves multiple purposes. Each citizen trains for six months. They're paid, taught trade skills, and returned to their lives until recalled. A cycle. Efficient, inexpensive, and it strengthens the bond between soldier and citizen."
"That sounds… innovative."
"Perhaps it is."
"But that is still a ridiculous high expense for a fifteen thousand army."
"As he said, it is better to use money than let it waste away."
"Another financial theory of his, I suppose."
"That is simply how he is."
"What about the children then?"
"These children will have the chance to be the first of his institution of mages and learned men."
Marianne stared at the children's back as they ran past, "Isn't it a security risk to allow commoners inside the palace?"
"Why would it be?" He asked, confused.
"Because of spies? Or poison?"
Siegfried smirked at the thought, "You must be joking."
"That made you laugh? Seriously?"
"Yes, I found the thought humorous. Because the safest man in this palace is Lucien."
"How?" She asked, until the shadows flickered.
A shade stood handing him Siegfried a letter.
Siegfried spoke as he opened it, "They're his pets, loyal, tireless and vigilant."
Marianne shook at the thought, "That means he can see everything."
"He can. If he wills it to be. Think of them as an extension of him, simply a shadow of him that exists until he talks with it, sees with it and moves with it."
"Doesn't he ever run out of mana?"
"Once a shade is summoned, they're here permanently until dispersed by another's magic. The only time he needs mana is when makes use of them"
"How envious." She muttered, a bit disconcerted at the thought.
Siegfried sifted through the letter. "It seems that the renovation you asked for has finished."
"That is fast." She raised an eyebrow.
"They've been built to raise bridges in a few hours. Renovations aren't a hard ask."
"Speaking of which, why construction?"
"Lucien spoke of overnight forts, ambush through bridges and a pool of manpower capable of reconstructing a city we've destroyed."
"You trained for that?"
"Yes," Siegfried nodded, "It was quite gruelling, we had to build and rebuild camp. Each time faster than the last."
They stopped before a pair of tall double doors, dark oak and gilded trim.
"Here we are!" Marianne chirped, her cheer snapping the tension like a whip crack. "Seamstress came at my recommendation. Lucien's already had his fitting."
She opened the door — and inside, sunlight spilled over velvet, silks, half-assembled uniforms on mannequins... and her.
"Oh my, oh my," the woman purred from across the room, her eyes locking on Siegfried like a lioness stalking her next challenge.
"Lady Marianne, you've given me so much to work with." She purred, stalking around him like prey. "First the Duke — charming and smoldering, all crimson and cold. I've crafted entire wardrobes to echo his eyes. And now…"
Her fingers fluttered like curious talons. "Now you bring me this."
Siegfried took a measured step back.
Marianne pushed her off him. "Calm down, Serellia."
"Oh, apologies. Forgive my rudeness. Lord Siegfried." Serellia dipped into a bow.
Siegfried fixed his uniform, "it's quite alright."
"Yes, please step onto the podium so that I may begin."
"Yes, yes," she beamed. "Step onto the podium, please — and, of course…" she waved him forward, "I'll need you to remove your clothes."
There was a beat of silence.
Siegfried stood still, then let out a resigned breath.
This, too, was required of him. So be it.
Without a word, he unfastened his cloak, fingers moving with the same grim efficiency as a man preparing for battle.
Serellia leaned toward Marianne, whispering from behind her hand. "And what, exactly, did the Duke mean by 'a blend of warlord and statesman' as the aesthetic?"
Marianne sighed. "Come. I'll translate his philosophy outside."
She took Serellia by the elbow and pulled her gently out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them — leaving Siegfried alone with silk, shadows, and his thoughts.
It took them a minute as Siegfried stood there, unclothed.
Countless scars scattered around his defined back.
Thick arms by his side as he stood tall above them.
She turned away, one hand over her eyes — peeking, very obviously, between her fingers.
Serellia, utterly unfazed, smiled with professional calm.
"While I am immensely grateful for the sight," she said smoothly, "I only meant your outer garments."
"Is that so, it seems I misunderstood." Siegfried nodded.
He turned to redress — but Marianne's voice suddenly sharpened:
"Wait— is that what I think it is?"
Her hand shot forward, finger pointed at a mark etched into the muscle of his back.
A symbolic brand. Twisted. Deep. Old.
Serellia's breath caught. "That looks… painful."
Siegfried pulled his shirt back over it in one motion, tone flat. "It was."
"Did Lucien?" Marianne whispered.
"No." Siegfried replied sharp and curt , as if the insinuation alone was insulting.
"But that brand, I have seen it before." Serellia muttered before gasping, stepping back in muted shock. "The Vethari."
"The Vethari." Marianne repeated as she turned to him.
Marianne looked away, uncertain now.
Serellia said nothing.
Siegfried finished buttoning his garment.
"I serve only one name now," he said.
"And it's not theirs."