In all his life, Jaune had never imagined, earnestly, what it was like to actually live as a noble. And not in the way of a noble Knight, marching and fighting. Or, before they had gone to do that, boarding in a castle to train. The castle had been all uniforms, drill, training and work, every day. And he hadn't minded one bit. Far from it, he liked to believe he had taken to it quite well, all things considered. And he was more than used to early mornings, long days, and a ton of hard work.
But here, in Vale…?
He'd been given private quarters in a room three times the size of his old room, back in Ansel. And, unlike his quarters in the castle, richly decorated.
The floor was covered in a thick carpet colored a dark shade of blue to match the blue of the walls. And the roof, domed ever so slightly, had been painted like the sky. Light blue and freckled with puffy clouds. The bed, unlike anywhere else he'd slept, was set right in the middle of the room. A great big round thing that could have probably fit three of him, stuffed with something soft that smelled of lavender and with smooth sheets that felt… Weird on him. Like water, almost, in the way it flowed over him and pooled when he left it behind. Around him the furniture was dark oak, and made up dressers and shelves that ran a quarter of the wall, broken up by ovular, iron-bracketed windows and nearly ceiling high shelves lined with books and scrolls he hadn't even glanced at yet. And, he got the feeling, he wouldn't have time to get through anytime soon.
His clothes were made of the same thing as his sheets, dark black with silver buttons up the chest and yellow etched into its seams and cuffs.
"What even is this…?" He murmured, sitting at the edge of his bed and frowning as he played it between his fingers.
"Silk, Lord." A quiet, feminine voice suddenly spoke up from a bit behind him. He flinched and stood, turning, but it was just Hare, who smiled thinly and nodded at him as she lifted a heavy book. "I thought we might revisit lessons, now that we are in safety here, in Vale?"
"I…" He sighed and, guilty, shook his head. "Not right now, Hare. I'm… Not feeling like it today. I'm sorry."
"You do not need to apologize, Lord." She bowed her head, moving over to a bookshelf to set the heavy tome aside and turning back to him, smiling still, with her hands clasped in front of her. "It is late morning. Are you hungry? Shall I fetch a meal?"
"Sure." He shrugged, "Sounds great."
"Very well." She bowed her head again and left, back out the large, double-doors that let into the room.
He watched her go and frowned, standing and shaking his head as he looked for his socks and boots and tugged them on. They were his combat boots, and a bit worn for it, but comfortable enough. And he didn't have another pair, so they would simply just have to make do. But, when he made to leave, he… Hesitated.
The Crocea Mors hung on the wall beside the door, on a weapon rack made seemingly specifically for it. It gleamed a pearly white as ever, its brass fittings and yellow trim bright and fresh. He reached for it, fingers trailing over the guard and then the handle slowly as a sort of… Weight bore down on him.
Then, he stepped away, sighed, and knelt to pick up his hammer, tucking it into the loop on his belt and pushing through the door.
Outside of his room, the halls of Arc Manor were almost maze-like. But both his Chastened seemed to know the way and, dressed in matching black robes, were more than happy to take him wherever he liked while he tried to memorize the layout.
"Do you have plans today, Lord?" Hare asked quietly as they walked, headed towards the garden.
"Why?"
"Lord Winchester sent word that he wished to see you, if you had the time." Kat explained simply and lowly. She was always the more quiet of the two, but she handed him the letters she had and added, when he looked at them both, "The other is from your mother, Lord. She would speak to you to help you…"
"Get properly settled into your duties." Hare stepped in to offer when the other woman seemed unsure of how to phrase it. "She said that she did not wish to… Over-burden you after a long day, when you arrived, and so put the matter off to today."
"I see." He frowned. Not even a day here, and he was already picking and choosing what to do? Who he would spend time with? Something about that irked him… Regardless, he said, "Send Lord Winchester word I will see him tonight, but, uh, that I must see to my familia duties first and foremost."
"I shall send Kat with word, by your leave, Lord."
"That's between you two." He sighed, seizing on the chance to let them choose something so tiny, so irrelevant, for themselves. It was all he could do. "Is that all?"
"It is." She nodded, stepping ahead of him and adding, "If you would follow me, I will lead you to the Lady of the House."
Instead of the gardens, where he half-expected to find the woman, Hare lead him through the winding halls and across the main entrance - which stood just inside a pair of double doors, decorated in the same style as his quarters beyond the furniture, which was replaced by rows of armor and weapon stands all along the walls and a few paintings he didn't have the time to look over - and through more halls. Until, finally, they reached a heavy, iron-framed door that she knocked on for him.
"Who goes?" A masculine voice asked from just beyond it.
"Lord Arc."
The door opened and let Jaune meet the gaze of a towering, broad-shouldered Chastened in the same dark robes Hare was wearing. He had a scar over an eye that curved along the side of his broad head, where Jaune could just make out the stumps of some kind of horns. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could the man bowed his head, towering over Jaune even then, and rumbled, "Lord Arc."
"Uh… Hi?" The man straightened, looking confused, and flicked Hare a look. She smiled apologetically but, before she could say anything, Jaune stepped up, "Forgive me, I don't know the, uh… Proper responses, for stuff like this. I'm new to everything."
"Ah, of course." The man hummed, nodding deeply and stepping back. "Forgive me, Lord, I forget myself.."
"It's alright." He tried to smile, looking up to meet the Chastened's gaze. "It's not really your fault."
"Even so." He rumbled lowly as he stepped out behind him and rumbled a parting, "My Lord."
With that, he shut the door behind him, leaving Jaune in… What appeared to be a study. Its walls were lined in shelves uniformly, aside from a space for a wide, if short, window. A desk sat under it, pressed in against the windowsill. The window itself is thicker looking than the ones in his room, and opens down the middle, but it;s locked closed right now. With heavy curtains drawn over it, letting the Dust-lights in the corners over the shelves light the room up in warm hues. The desk itself was the same dark oak as everything else, so evidently the Arcs had a style he'd need to settle into there, and was covered in neat stacks of rolled up messages and stacks of writing paper. The drawers, he guessed, would have spares - plus ink and quills.
Before he could do more than pace across the solid, wood flooring, though, the door opened again and he turned to meet his 'mother's smile with one of his own.
"Please." She waved him towards a chair the large man brought in, setting down a few feet away from the desk. "Sit. We've much to talk about."
"Oh?" He grunted, paying the man a grateful nod that did little more than confuse him as he took the seat and turned to watch the woman in her sundress do the same. "What about?"
"Much that will come out in the course of our talk." She chuckled, relaxing into her seat as Hare brought in a pot of something warm and sweet smelling and a pair of cups that she set on the desk before quietly retreating. She poured each of them a cup and turned, offering him one that he took and sipped at, grimacing while she chuckled, "Rich, undiluted coffee. A rarity, outside of Mistral and Vacuo. And something of an acquired taste."
"I'll… Get used to it then, I suppose?"
"I hould hope." She smiled, sipping her own with not even the slightest frown of distaste. She set the cup aside and turned her head ever so slightly, "It's quite in fashion in Vale and Atlas alike. And as the head of the house, I should hope you can handle it well enough."
"I'll manage."
"You're quite adept at that." She bowed her head, tapping long, well-treated fingernails on the desk. "'Managing' I mean."
"I've had to be." He shrugged, feeling more than a little of the same tension as their meeting yesterday bubbling to the surface. Was that her intention? He'd been armed, armored and with a man loyal t him yesterday - all of which he lacked now, save his hammer.
It felt pointed enough to put him on his guard…
"That is very, very true, I suppose." She hummed, turning to open one of the neatly folded messages and humming. "You managed after the destruction of Ansel. You managed your tutoring. You even managed an entire village at war…"
"For less than a week."
"Even so, with no training or proper education…" She tutted and cocked her head, smiling, "It speaks well. And those that hear of it speak well of you for it, too."
"That's… Good?"
"In some ways." She nodded, holding up the letter and smirking thinly. "This is your first marriage proposal."
"My first what?!"
"Oh, you're already reacting like that?" She smiled, sounding… Amused, somehow, as she returned it to the stack of nearly ten and shrugged. "This entire stack is composed of them, you should know."
"I- Why, though?" He shook his head, confused for a moment before he put the pieces together on his own and sighed. Holding up a hand, he shook his head and frowned, "No, don't answer. I can guess most of it."
"Oh?" Her brow rose and she reclined in her seat, "Please, do tell."
"Is this a test…?"
"More or less." She frowned, eyes narrowing just a bit when Jaune scowled. Calmly, she said, "Please understand, my new son and Lord, you are an unknown to me. I have reports, of course. Rumors and letters and what you have concretely done. But I do not know you. I have been more or less pressed into putting my family's hands in yours, and know near enough to nothing about you personally."
"I… Suppose that's fair." He frowned, "Fine, then. It tracks because our family is… Well, renowned. And since I'm the last man left, any family that marries in is guaranteed a good place in our books."
"And…?"
"And…" He thought for a moment and frowned, trying not to show how far his suspicions really went as he shrugged and said, "And I'd be a great target for manipulations. No?"
"Potentially, yes." The woman nodded and, if she caught what Jaune was at least partially implying, she only said, "At least, to anyone out there who may be so inclined. Which, yes, is something to be more than merely a little concerned about. Which is my concern. If we entertain these missives-"
"Are we?" He cut her off, grimacing and gesturing at the pile with a hand. "Entertaining them, I mean."
"Why would we not?"
"I don't even know any of them!" He scoffed, "And… And I just got into Vale! Why would they-"
"You know, had Nicholas deigned to raise you here, where you belong, you likely would already be married." She cut him off, actually laughing a quiet, mature little laugh when Jaune couldn't stop the flinch of surprise. "Arrangements would have been made years in advance, you understand. With time for you and your spouse-to-be to get to know each other, and for the related families to… See if there is a match."
"But I'm already a man."
"Indeed." She nodded, "And a Knight. Many families have Knights. And when they die, their matches die with them. Rhetorically, of course."
"Of course…"
"So many young women and men are matched later in life, such as yourself, usually by the patriarch of the family. Or, when there is not one for…" She grimaced, sighed and swallowed what seemed like a touch of pain before she pressed on, "If the patriarch is gone, the matriarch may act, in many families. However… We have our patriarch, don't we?"
"I'm him." He muttered, nodding and frowning, "Thats unique. Right?"
"Very, and it comes with boons and banes." She nodded, "The greatest benefit is the most obvious, at least to you. You get to negotiate this all at your own leisure, to your own liking."
"And if I don't want to…?"
"Then don't." She frowned, tapping her finger on the desk again. Faster this time, though. As if the mere thought made her anxious. "If you prefer, you can focus your efforts on business for a time. Business and service. Rebuilding your personal cohort, as the Patriarch of House Arc always does, but…"
"Eventually, I'll have to do it." Or at least start looking at it. It wasn't that he was opposed to getting married, of course. Just… "I'm not ready to get married. Not… Not yet, you know?"
"I understand the anxiety." She nodded, giving him the distinct impression that she was more… Humoring him than anything, somehow. Even so, she shrugged and gestured at the stack, "If you prefer a less… Direct and concrete route, I will arrange a ball. Or a banquet, perhaps. To let you meet some of the potential suitors more comfortably. And to allow you to make some other, more business oriented connections."
"With your help." He grunted, "Right?"
"Why, I would be happy to be of service to my family." She smiled, all teeth and, for once, a very clear and direct presence of… Something. Ambition, maybe? It didn't seem predatory, or malicious, so he had to chalk it up to that. Standing, she said, "If that is all, then I shall go and see to preparations. It should only be a few days."
"Who will come?"
"Whoever we invite, dear." She smiled, "Why?"
Patch was too far away to send an invitation on such short notice, but… "I'd like to invite Cardin. A Brother of-"
"I know of the Winchester boy, you needn't concern yourself." She sighed, shaking her head a bit ruefully - or maybe in amusement, she was seemingly purposefully hard to read - and adding, "You do understand that, for our terse friendliness, we and the Winchesters do compete rather severely for business. Yes?"
"All I know is that the man is my closest friend." He argued, frowning deeply enough that she should ideally get the message. "Business comes second to the blood we've shed for each other."
"Did he not strike you when you were in training?" She pressed, face going cold as she turned to him, hands folded in front of her. Jaune scowled, confused, and she said, "It happened in public, my wayward son. How would word not have reached me in such a long time?"
That was fair enough, he supposed… Moving on, he just argued, "Times change things. He made right for it, and we went to battle after. A good punch hardly compares to the fighting we've been through."
"Hmph. You may truly be your father's son after all." His eyes narrowed and she chuckled, waving his suspicion off with a hand and a weary sigh. "Forgive an old woman her slip, my Lord. Merely lost to my own thoughts and emotions, as we women are wont to be."
He wanted to argue that but, seeing an out, just shrugged and said, "Under the bridge."
"I'm… Sorry?" She frowned, confused, "What?"
"Ah, uh…" He grimaced, "Forgive me. Old saying from Ansel. It, uh… 'Water under the bridge'. Just means it's alright, in the past. That sort of thing."
"I see." She blinked, smiling thinly, "How… Rural. Regardless, I see your point and won't press you on who you choose to be friends with. I only mean to warn you of… Potential hiccups, so to speak. Down the range."
"I appreciate it." He stood, "Is this all you wanted to talk about?"
"For now." She nodded, "We can talk to politics and more… Ingrained aspects of business as they come up. But do expect to have suitors pressing you, dear boy. And, for the love of all that is good, keep them out of your bed."
"I-I'm sorry?!"
She only smiled wryly and gestured at him, "You are not the first child had out of wed-lock. Among peasants, such is fine. But a House will press you into marriage if you put a child in one of their daughters."
"I-I won't!" He flushed, heat creeping up his neck as he turned, looking out the window at the edge of the garden.
"I only speak the warning because of your upbringing." She laughed quietly and, when he turned back to her, she was shaking her head. "I will leave you be, now. I will send your girls along with menu selections for later, and make the banquet a celebration and announcement of your inheritance. Shall you wear your armor?"
"Can I…?"
"If it is cleaned." She nodded, smiling when he did, too. "Very well. It shall be cleaned, polished and repaired as needed. Will you be wearing… That thing, too?"
He turned, following her gaze to his hammer and laid a hand on its head, running a thumb over an old, familiar groove in the metal, "Yes. It was the last gift my fa- The man who raised me, I mean, gave to me before he died."
"I see." She nodded, "Clean it, too, then."
And with that she left, almost like he'd upset her somehow. He just shook it off and turned to lean on the desk, looking out at the garden. Then the stack of, apparently, marriage offers. Quietly to himself, he muttered, "That many… Seriously?"
And all for his name, too…
He frowned and turned, leaving the room as agitation started to creep in. He had better things to do…