After Mathilda had scared me half to death, she and I headed to start out working.
Sceptre in hand, Mathilda discussed with me how most of the things set on Father's desk needed some form of military action or better yet cutthroat diplomacy which would likely lead to a form of military intervention.
On getting there I saw what she meant for myself.
We'd received messages from regional lords in Aville, cautioning of a possible revolt they, would not be able to quell. Reading the letter in my hand, telling of how they had been forced to raise taxes and rents on yeoman and lower class to fulfil their taxes to the Duchy and the Kingdom.
Many of these problems arose from a singular cause.
The Kingdom was at war, and father had joined that war effort at full throttle. If we had just provided the levies and tax required of us, instead of volunteering all efforts, problems like food shortages, depopulation, declining income and inflation, would not have befallen us so quickly.
And these were just the problems crippling the county, Aville. Much larger threats loomed outside the capitol county of the Duchy, the county of Harsem, a vassal of the Duchy of Aville, gave greater cause for panic.
The brother to the current Count of Harsem, Dieter Von Lange, had sent a letter with serious allegations against his brother, Count Heinz Von Harsem, to the Bishop resident in the county.
As the letter read, Count Heinz had taken to the ideals of a growing heresy in the county, this heresy had been present for months and his brother had taken the necessary steps demanded by the Church in such situations.
However, Dieter suspected his brother's late-night expeditions into the forests and purposeful contradictory orders that impeded actions against the growing heresy were a sign of something more sinister.
"The Church has granted us a week to investigate this," Matilda said, crossed legged in her chair. "They've also given us permission to pass judgement on any heretic we encounter."
At this, I scoffed, setting the letter aside, "Given us? Granted us? Who are they to dictate their wills in our domains?"
"Uh…the Church?" She said, matter-of-factly, "The Church is what gives us all grace against damnation, it's also what puts Kings on thrones, had you forgotten."
I wave her words away and plaster on a smirk, "Oh, Mathilda, you need not be so modest with your thoughts," I lean back into the chair, it was amazingly comfortable, "Are you trying to make me believe that a woman…a woman who became the first female general in the Kingdom, a woman invaluable to my father, the Duke, and the most sought after commander of all monarchs, has such little thoughts on the relevance of the Church?"
I could see her roll her eyes and tuck her hair behind her ear, a tell-tale sign my flattery was working.
She let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't say all monarchs but, heh, yes, I'd also prefer we didn't discuss this any further. I am obliged to report you for blasphemy and possible heresy, you know?"
I put on what I felt was my most charming smile and put the topic to bed, "Ah, yes, of course."
Silence prevailed for moments. I'd taken to begin addressing the many critical matters laid out on the desk before me, yet I'd caught Mathilda throwing glances several times, as much as she'd caught mine.
After what felt like ten minutes, she gave in.
"Ok, but do you not believe in the Church? God?"
I smiled and set the quill aside, I'd only been scribbling, I needed her counsel for most of these challenges after all. Our little silent game was but a distraction.
I nodded, giving a shrug and appeared to look in thought, "Well. The Church, no. But God?" I smirked, "I believe in a God. A true one. Not borne of any existing religion or way of life. But a real GOD. One that I have experienced."
She looked at me with a dangerous tint to her eyes and I let out a chuckle to alleviate her fears and obvious suspicions, it was necessary, "Oh, don't look at me that way. I'm not a fanatic. I only speak my truth. And I suspect a great deal, you have encountered…the reaper."
Her reaction to that word 'reaper' only strengthened my reasons to suspect her. Her nose flared, lips trembled ever so slightly and she blinked a lot more.
I suspected, she was a reincarnate, just like myself.
I had begun to suspect as much after Orson recalled the battle in which she saved him. There was nothing of substantial prove within his story. But, her strength, her tactics, her arguments, her charisma. Everything about her screamed kindred at times.
But the incredulous look she had on didn't inspire me to think I'd hit the jackpot. She was no good at politics, a warrior to the core. All her feelings were discernible with a single look. She knew nothing of what I spoke.
"Uhm? What?" she sounded just as confused as she looked.
Lest I endanger myself the suspicion of the Church, I quickly dismissed my earlier comments, "Never mind me. I have spoken out of place and lost my train of thought in the process, I apologize." With haste I picked up the quill I'd set aside, this conversation needed to be buried as brutally as possible, "Let's get back to works, shall we?"
I'd realized, even if she was a reincarnate, she most likely recalled nothing of her past life, unlike I did with meticulous recordings. After all, I couldn't possibly expect everyone in my position to have the sense to do the same as I.
"Uh…But we wer-"
"I need to have at least half of these cut down before the Duke gets back, Mathilda."
Meekly, she gave a quiet affirmative. Good.
Still, within myself, I retained hope that I'd find someone much like myself.
"So what are we going to do about Harsem?" she asked, nibbling on her lips, she was frustrated.
I raised my hands up high and let out two loud claps and after a second a guard opens the door and kneels.
"Sir?"
"I need you to fetch Seinerd for me, he is the Chancellors apprentice of sorts."
"Sir!"
With that, he shut the door behind him and I began to write down a set of instructions for Seinerd. I didn't know how diplomatic Desmond's apprentice really was, it'd be safer to have instructions laid out for him.
"You're sending Desmond's pup to Harsem? To talk to the Count? That'll be a bad id-"
The door swung open and there were Seinerd and the guard I'd sent. "Lord Rainald, as you requested."
I nod and address Seinerd. He was much more than a simple pup as Mathilda implied, more of a man than what I'd envisioned. He had broad shoulders, ranged much taller than I as most people did, a chiselled jaw and a handsome mug just like Desmond.
"You summoned me…" He trailed off there, looking away and rubbing the back of his head. A bit too nonchalant for my tastes.
"Lord…Rainald," I said, helping to remind him of proper etiquette and manners.
He straightened up as if remembering where he was, and whom he stood before. "Yes! My apologies, Lord Rainald."
I could only shake my head at this. My authority was still very fragile, barely two hours had passed since I'd taken the mantle. I couldn't be demeaned now or it'll be irredeemable,
"Kneel," at the word the man looked lost, turning to the guard beside him, as if thinking my commands were directed at he instead, "Seinerd, kneel."
At my repetition, Mathilda shot up from her seat, her hand placed firmly on the hilt of her large sword.
Quite quickly, Seinerd found himself kneeling.
"Seinerd, who do you think I am?" his head was bowed but I could see his jaw begin to open to answer my rhetoric, "I am the acting Regent of the Duchy of Aville, I represent the Dukes will," I stand from my chair at the desk and squat right in front of him, lifting his so our eyes meet, "Do not disrespect. Understood?"
"Yes, Milord." His voice was low and humbled enough that I believed I'd instilled a good amount of fear into him.
"Good," I stand and lean on the desk, "Now you have a job to complete, you may rise."
I let on a smile as I stood beside Mathilda's still imposing figure, it made the man before me shrink, "I'm sending you to Harsem as a spy. Gather whatever information you can on the activities of the Count there. Don't get caught, I trust that your mentor, Desmond, has instilled in you, common statecraft and spycraft but just to be safe I'll be leaving you with a few instructions, read it when you don't know what to do."
I picked up the sheet I'd written on and handed it to him. "Harsem is just a few hours away on horseback, if you report back with a messenger bird, I'll be able to relay new orders to you effectively." He nods at my every word, not wanting to irritate me again, "Is that understood?"
"Yes, Milord!"
I smirked and returned to my chair, a ton of letters of complaints and claims of a rising revolt sat on the desk. I felt powerful. But also burdened.
I never thought I'd experience great power with great responsibility.