For the first time since Diane had entered this game, she finally recognized her surroundings as a scene from it.
The commencement ceremony included a good several thousand students packed into a domed coliseum structure, every one of them staring down at the demure white podium stationed just north of the center-- the arena.
Fine chairs overtook the rest of the arena: that was where foreign nobility sat, every bit as much entertainment as the actual speaker. Said speaker was an ancient member of the faculty droning on about cherished friendships as if it weren't code for useful diplomatic ties.
To make an already long commencement ceremony near unbearable, Lilith's fiancé Theodosius made it tacitly clear that he was quite unhappy about her decision to arrive at the Magic Tower Sovereign Territory ahead of him. He didn't even look at her when they first met up, bound together by marital expectation and assigned seating for foreign nobles. Not that Diane intended to be bound by the former for much longer.
"You're breathing too loud," Theo hissed at her under his breath, and Diane had to close her eyes, lest he realize that she was rolling them.
"Shall I stop altogether, then?" She shot back, trying for playful. Maybe a bit of humor would help nudge the stick out of his ass. Going by the glare Theo sent back in response, it didn't work. At least it shut him up.
The speaker finished with a mumbled 'thank you,' collecting his papers and shuffling slowly toward the nearest exit. Diane couldn't remember for the life of her what he was expected to teach.
But that train of thought left her mind the moment the next speaker swanned in, clothed in flowing white fabric that billowed with her every step. The light reflected off her skin, dark like the night, and everything about her countenance indicated hard-won grace. Her braids, multitudinous and white with age, curled like snakes into a bun above her head. The Archmage.
Celene Odessa was a woman of legend in Etienne. Mothers would scold their children with claims that she might spirit them away in the night for bad behavior; books of history described her as beastly. But jealousy and imperial propaganda couldn't obfuscate the truth in front of Diane: she was stunning, and she was powerful.
Theo visibly bristled in her presence; no wonder Emperor Gladius hated her guts. To move mountains and still act with elegance? What a perfectly awful enemy he had made.
"Students," she began, in a voice both rough and soft, "Many of you have come from afar-- I thank you for your sacrifice." She stared down at the section of nobles just before her, and Diane couldn't help but crack a smile. That statement could have been taken two ways. Archmage Odessa was politically savvy, too. "The next five years will include a comprehensive magical education, comprised of the knowledge the Magic Tower Sovereign Territory has gained so far--" she grinned, now, going for a joke, "Forgive me, naming conventions are not my specialty, and unfortunately I've been tasked with naming much of what you see here today."
Scattered laughter, followed by applause. That was one mystery solved. "You will be learning about magic in all of its forms, including our current understanding of magic as it is, sorcery, and alchemy."
"Some of you may not be familiar with all of these concepts, so to be quick: Magic as we know it is considered to be innate, a power that is believed to come from the soul. Some scholars call it a kind of life force; it is indeed associated with life, and its longevity."
"Sorcery, on the other hand, is a transactional relationship made with demons. There are some," and here Archmage Odessa stared straight at Theo, "Who believe that sorcery is considered immoral, or intrinsically evil. They would be wrong." Theo leveled her with a glare. "Just as all individual relationships are unique, so is sorcery. In short: the practice itself is perfectly ethical. What you choose to do personally is a different question."
The Archmage continued unfettered. "Alchemy is the science of understanding our relationship with nature, and nature's relationship with itself. Much has been discovered to this end, and even more is waiting to be unearthed. Us denizens of the Tower are ultimately creatures driven by curiosity: the world presents endless questions, and we seek to answer them."
"These are not the only subjects we will be teaching here-- history, mathematics, and diplomacy--" here Theo quietly scoffed-- "Are other areas of study open to you. For a select few, we've even opened a sister academy for ambitious young knights. Our squires are as promising as they are dedicated to their craft." Archmage Odessa went quiet, only giving a placid smile to the nobles in attendance.
That was an admission. The Magic Tower was building their own military. Theo understood the implications all too well, going by how pale he looked. "I wish all of you great luck and enjoyment in the coming five years."
She paused again, setting her hands down on the podium and scanning the entire audience-- not just the aristocracy. "Now, then. I won't keep you-- not when there's this much for all of us to do. Enjoy yourselves!" The Archmage threw her hands up, and the air around her began to shimmer. As if she were a desert mirage, within seconds she disappeared outright.
"Not a bad way to make an exit," observed someone just to Theo's left.
"A little showy," Theo replied, adjusting his cravat.
"Certainly theatrical," Diane followed up, stretching-- if she remembered correctly, the game's commencement ceremony had been one or two frames of dialogue. Sitting still for an hour and a half in a full corset was a little more immersive than Diane would have preferred.
"Agreed," said the gentleman next to Theo. He even leaned forward with a little gloved wave in Diane's direction, all smiles. "I don't believe that I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance?"
Diane stared at him. She knew that coiffed white-blond hair, swept to the side as if to indicate a false sense of carelessness. That face, perfectly proportioned with eyes such a pale blue that they almost glowed. Diane knew that smile, knew the context with which it was used. Just next to Theo was the third prince of Ustoff and the man who lead to Lilith's ruin in every single route of the game. She even remembered his tagline: 'It's just a game, Princess. One that you happened to lose. Don't feel too bad about it.'
"Emil Von Ustoff," Diane acknowledged. Theo stared at her, frowning.
Ustoff grinned. "You know my name? I'm flattered." Right. This man would try to gain Lilith's affection as a misguided bid to take the Ustoff crown. All of this so-called friendliness was a ruse.
"I would be remiss not to know foreign royalty," Diane retorted, draping her hand above Theo's, where it remained atop an arm rest. She could build a ruse of her own. "Considering my position." She followed this with a polite smile, hoping to cut that particular vine before it grew roots.
Theodosius only frowned further, extricating his hand from under Diane's and lacing his fingers together at his front. He couldn't even pretend for the sake of diplomatic ties, could he? Ustoff's smile only grew. "It's good to make your acquaintance," Theo began, "Are your mothers doing well?"
"They're about as well as any insufferably in love couple can be," Ustoff answered, uncrossing an recrossing his legs. He looked Diane right in the eyes and continued, "I'm sure you two know exactly what I mean."
So she was caught-- that wouldn't stop her from bullshitting, though. "I like to think that love is something that grows with patience and nurturing." She laced her own hands together, mirroring her fiancé's posture. The picture of a united front.
Emil Von Ustoff's smile grew... colder, somehow. Not unlike a snake sizing up its prey. "With the right recipient, of course."
"Yes," agreed Theo, sneering toward Diane, "Or else all that patience and nurturing just comes across as persistence and smothering."
Incredible. This idiot was siding with a potential enemy just to get in a pot shot at his own fiancée. "Of course, space is vital in any healthy relationship," Diane smiled, "I'm so glad that you understand my decision to ride ahead in our journey to the Tower." Just as all of Theo's bravado fell, replaced with shock and outrage, Diane plopped her hand on his shoulder and stood up. "Apologies, gentlemen, but Archmage Odessa was right. I have work to do. Excuse me."
With a curtsy-- once again her body knew etiquette better than she did-- Diane made an exit of her own
_________
Emil was a man raised with the belief that preparedness would lead to preferred outcomes. Not all the time, no: there were exceptions, and variables well outside of his control.
But information was not one of those variables. Information was his specialty, gleaned through spies and reporting and constant cross referencing-- Emil had built an underground empire on information.
It was rarely, if ever, wrong. The servants planted in the Seraphine estate had all provided the same points about Emil's future conquest: Lilith was a naive, vain woman with all the cruelty of nobility and none of the grace. Desperately, pathetically in love with Prince Theodosius, one servant had said of her. Prideful, claimed another. Short-tempered, said another still.
Her long history in Etiennese social circles had all but confirmed it: the only thing keeping Lilith Seraphine from becoming the punchline of every tea party was her bloodline. There was no wit, no repartee, no necessary concealment of anger or disgust.
She was supposed to be the perfect target: a nexus of power and connection and incompetence that would convince his mothers just who really deserved to be king. He would marry the worthless, beloved daughter of Duke Seraphine, convince him to secede from Etienne and join Ustoff as a fellow duke with high standing, and use his land and resources to eat away at his former homeland. Simple as that.
Emil made light conversation with the Theodosius of Etienne, all the while shifting his plans, watching the receding figure of Lilith Seraphine.
Every single cross referenced report described an idiot little girl with no poise or ability. Emil found his finger tapping against his armrest. His information was never wrong. Never like this.