Aura 2
Lower Wind Month — Day 22
Aura woke early, in the pre-dawn— before first light. She had always been an enthusiastic riser, the folktales of her caretakers lingering with her well into her majorities. Of course, now she kept to the routine out of habit rather than fear of middling stature…or small breasts.
Though she would have much appreciated the latter since she could do without the back pains and leers from the menfolk.
But such was life's favour. And who knew, she might come to appreciate her abundance in the future when her sworn did not stray. Though if she kept to the company of the queen and her retinue such might not be a preventable fate.
She shook her head at her fatuous thoughts, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a yawn. The effort proved futile as the last remnants of slumber left her completely. By the time it was all done, she had tears in her eyes and found herself needing a renewal on her light blush.
Aura frowned at her dresser, "Could we not skip this whole part, I'd hate to keep Duchess Mariha waiting."
"I'm afraid not, Lady Aura," the maid replied, undaunted by her lax attitude. "The location of your meeting is rife with people— serfs and nobles alike. They would spread ill rumors if you were anything less than stellar, and with the queen's shielding gone, such gossip would gain traction in no time."
And had that not been a sobering revelation; no longer under the protective influence of the royals, they now had to deal with the expectations required of them as scions of House Fiore. That meant court intrigue— a lot of it.
And parties too— the boring types.
She had met with her brother on the second day after their arrival in this splendid realm, prompted by their aunt moving into one of the palace's mansions. There, he had impressed upon her the responsibilities expected of her, ones removed from the aiqroqir.
Dazzling, gossiping, and politicking.
It was all too unappealing to her, yet duty was duty, and she would not willingly disregard it. That said, she was far from enthused by the events. "I doubt our hosts will be putting in this much work, though. And why can't it be Mare doing this?"
"Lord Mare has been busy as of late, and such leisures he cannot afford with his demanding schedule." The maid was quick to defend her brother.
Aura already knew that, of course. In his office, Mare had piles of documents and contracts stacked high on his desk. He attended meetings too, negotiating with guilds and institutional heads who sought to establish branch offices in their lands.
She would have thought the demands of his station would implode on him if she did not know how enjoyable he found the tedium. Though one would not guess that from how disheveled he looked in the nights.
Honestly, it was all strange to her.
These lands— this new realm— were refreshing and calm. The outside world felt like a dream to her of faerie blood, the climate unlike the abhorrent imitations the old beards had conjured over their skies in days past.
She knew the climate magic had been abhorrent because this was a million times better. Yet her brother seemed scarcely moved by it, despite his deeper attunement with the aspects of nature.
He was far too concerned with intrigue...and agricultural freedoms. He never just indulged in the nature.
But such was her brother, she supposed.
Yurra stepped in front of her, gently tilting her head this way and that, ensuring every detail was attended to until only the final touches remained.
Then she leaned in closer— so close that Aura could see her reflection within the maid's clear emerald eyes.
Had she not known that her dresser was a prominent guest upon her twin's bed she would have found this telling…and improper still. Yet would she had indulgent?
That was a much more uncomfortable question.
Upon her cheeks, the soft sensation of the pink brush came, the powder instantly invoked to blend seamlessly with her caramel skin to create a perpetual flush.
She found these beauty routines wasteful, adding little to her natural allure except for an appeal that her lack of enthusiasm was bound to diminish.
Soon the maid was done, and Aura was up and in front of her full mirror to ascertain her appearance this fine morn.
Aside from her face there was little out of the norm. She had an extravagant long dress shaded white with lines of violet for far-visibility. A series of gemstones on her neck, held in place by thin chains of gold bonded with mystic ore for charm works.
A look far too lacking for balls and such. But she was heading to break fast— albeit with a duke's wife— and the location was in the duel yards thus her fashion was more than adequate.
"Well then, I suppose I should be heading out."
And thus she did, moving with a relaxed grace, accompanied by a pair of her personal maids, who were eager to be her company.
Perhaps she shouldn't have been too surprised at their anticipation. Ever since the king had begun frequenting the dueling yards in the mornings, the location's reputation had risen a notch. The morning duels between knights— both royal and noble— had become increasingly intense, and the serfs were always eager for a spectacle, as well as a chance to improve their fortunes.
Then there were those like her own maids, who had grown weary of their unwed status and were eager for a prestigious match among the knighted brutes.
It was foolish. The knights were a roguish lot, constantly indulging in the privileges of their status, so revered among the common masses. Aura had seen them in the festive parks five nights ago, though she would not call out their indecency— doing so would risk revealing her own secret.
And that was not an option.
She shuddered at the thought of being chastised by her aunt, something she wished to avoid. Besides, she already endured enough of that from her cousin and the queen, though their criticisms tended to focus on matters beyond her control.
Speaking of her cousin, Aura was deeply upset with her. It was heartbreaking to learn about her engagement from the peasantry rather than from her own lips.
"What sort of cousin would do something like that?" Hers, apparently, and that only swelled her choler.
Unfortunately, the pale woman seemed to have disappeared from the palace grounds, and her betrothed was not being particularly forthcoming about her whereabouts.
She breathed, ignoring the queer looks she had garnered from her maids at her vocalised heartbreak. It mattered not, she would just have to resolve to throttle the midget the next time they met.
They continued their walk in serene silence, turning one corner and then another, eventually passing through the gardens northwest of the palace grounds and into the reserved duel yard, situated a bit further from the main training grounds.
Just beyond the gardens, they came by a gaggle of maids chattering and giggling. Amongst them was one who was as red as a rose bush and lips so wide you would think she had a hex placed upon her. The others flung upon her congratulations and shared in her happiness, though hints of what she had come to know as envy traced their features.
As they passed, the maids still remembered to defer to her with respect, though Aura cared little for such vanities. She only valued what she had earned— like the respect from her personal maids and fellow aiqroqir.
"It seems fortune has come to Aimée," came a voice from her right, low-pitched despite its obvious feminine lilt.
Aura turned to regard her half-elven maid. "You know her?"
"Aye, Lady Aura," the raven head nodded. "Aimée sometimes acts as aid in the mess hall during the afternoons."
The dark elf felt there was more to that, though her interest was a fleeting thing. She would leave the gossip to those who were fond of it…like the queen, who had a rather frightening mind for conclusions deduced from less than adequate information.
She turned her head to the east where the horizon had turned orange with the sun's impending ascend. This too was a splendid sight far removed from the imitation of the old beards.
This world was truly marvellous, and she could not wait for the wilds and rains and snows so white and cold.
They soon came by the duel yard, the whole place crowded and surrounded by serfs who had little in the way of chores this early. Some noble women were here as well, watching the duels in elevated platforms shaded and guarded.
Well, Aura supposed this was a predictable development.
Her gaze strayed, finding the platform where Lady Nishikienrai was seated. Beside her sat Narberal, dressed similarly to her mother and with her eyes fixed on the fields below.
With another flicker, she found the guides sent for her.
"Well, I'll be off by myself henceforth. You two are free to do whatever," she said to the pair, whose eyes blazed with appreciation. "Though, do keep an ear out for my summons."
"Of course, Lady Aura."
If the gods were kind, they would see her maids unchanged or bonded. The Nine knew how difficult it was to find serfs who would grow with her.
———————————
Her usher to the duchess's viewbox was a simple affair, with the knights guarding the entrance offering her little more than a terse nod of deference and unbarred entrance into the room proper.
And when she entered— minding her grace and posture both— she found the room was spatially twisted, with the inside being twice as big and lavish still. Her eyes quickly swivelled towards the box's lookout where the table and chairs were placed.
Duchess Mariha was there, seated, her half-lidded amethyst gaze upon her in obvious inspection. Her countenance bore a resemblance to Narberal's, though instead of the Pleiades' forced impassiveness, hers was softer and, dare she say, motherly.
On her black painted lips was a smile all too contradictory, both friendly and mocking. Yet she wore it well, beautifully even.
The woman certainly had the same aura as the queen, the confidence and beauty both. She also had a chest thrice that of Aura's, and it was all veiled behind a dress that did more to emphasise it than hide it.
It was almost a miracle that the duels were still ongoing with her obvious flaunt of it.
"You've a very telling face, girl."
The voice snapped her out of her observation before she remembered her manners and etiquette both. "Forgive my—" she tried to say, but her apology was interrupted.
"There's no need for all that. I know you've little regard for grace— a fault of the king's rather than your own, as he's spoiled you silly," the duchess said in a drawl, almost dismissive, yet even that had an abundance of class to it. "Come, sit. My husband is about to fight, and he's placed a mansion's wager on himself."
The woman beckoned her to the seat on her left— and perhaps there was meaning behind that, but she forgot or never knew to begin with. Aura also noted that it was only going to be the three of them.
She finally sat down, offering a pinched smile to Narberal, who returned it with an apologetic one— something rare for the Pleiades. An instant later, a cup of frost-leaf tea appeared in front of her, the spoon giving off a low clink.
'Ah, yes. Ninjas.'
She had almost forgotten that the duke had a whole clan of them and was probably one himself. Maybe. It was always difficult to tell with the assassins; for all she knew, her own brother might be one too.
Nevertheless she still indulged in the tea without hesitation, frost-leaf was her favourite.
In the fight yard, a man stepped forward to the center. He was barefoot and half-naked— something Aura soon learned was a trend among the men. On his lower half, he wore a black hakama, and in his left hand, he held a chokutō.
His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, as dark as the shadows of night. When he turned to glance up at their viewbox, the dark elf nearly swooned along with the other women in the yard—he was simply that handsome a sight.
Aura had never felt relieved for Yurra's foresight because her cheeks had turned scalding.
That was…
…until she noticed the man was looking at the duchess. Her cheeks took a different kind of heat.
'How did I not notice sooner,' she thought. 'And since when did the duke become this handsome?'
Well, it was not as if she was at fault here. The man was always in suits and hats whenever she saw him— which admittedly was not often. Nevertheless, he was a fair sight, and seeing him like this, she understood Narberal's desire to remain impassive.
Danzō Nishikienrai certainly made it work.
A glance to her right and she saw the duchess's eyes were ablaze with both love and dark promise. Narberal was just embarrassed, her face in her hands.
The duchess turned to the dark elf, a quirk on her lips.
"Handsome, isn't he," the woman asked her, and Aura did not know how to answer— no, she knew how, she just did not know if it would offend the duchess. "Don't hesitate, girl. I don't much mind honesty."
"He is."
"Good," was the approving reply. "I had to fight and threaten many ladies for him, your aunt included."
Aura didn't know how to respond to that, but the duchess continued after taking a sip of her tea. "That doesn't mean I won't cripple him if he doesn't win this whole thing."
"What about the king?"
"Bah, the king will lose. He spends way too much time in the queen's thighs it's a wonder he didn't pass out from exhaustion yet."
Aura covered her mouth as a fit of laughter overtook her. It was so true— all too true. Though only the former part. The king was resilient and disturbingly talented in swordsmanship. He had his magic too, but those were restricted and prohibited.
Narberal, on the other hand, looked at her mother with horror. "Kaa-san, that's priv— confidential information."
"This is why I told your father that that silly unit was no good. He should have listened to me and pulled you out of there posthaste, before that little spinster corrupted your mind with this nonsense," the duchess shook her head. "Every single soul in the palace knows about the royal's frequent coupling. The pair aren't really keeping it a secret either."
The dark elf wished she could defend the royals, yet she had seen the queen more than once moving with a peculiar gait after her spontaneous visits to her husband.
"Yuri isn't a spinster."
"Of course she is. The same applies for her elder sister. Seriously, do those girls think they're elves or something," the duchess scoffed, and Aura decided she did not want to get involved in that.
Narberal, meanwhile, was pouting at her mother, her cheeks flushed with frustration. It was an odd sight, seeing the maid without her usual shroud of stoicism and silent judgment.
It seemed mothers had a way of crumbling their children's confidence.
A dark flash illuminated the table briefly, and in the next moment, three plates materialized before them. Aura's dish was a pancake sandwich, accompanied by a side of sweet berries and a bowl of milk flavored with culfay.
Narberal's meal was more substantial: two onigiri nestled beside a rolled and sliced omelet, with sausages and cucumber slices, all lightly seasoned and sprinkled with seeds.
The duchess's plate, however, could hardly be called a meal— just a small fruit salad sat before her.
Again, the woman seemed to see through her. "I've a figure to maintain unlike you younglings," she said, yet even the dark elf knew the lie of that statement. "Well, don't let me keep you waiting, be on with your meals."
The Pleiades was already doing so, comfortable. Aura followed suit and cut a piece of her pancake sandwich before turning to the yard.
Another man— one of the royal knights— had made his way into the arena, just as half-naked and handsome still. This one had red bruises on his torso, hinting at an early wounding unmended by the temporal-safety glyphs around the yard.
'Men and their disregard for safety.'
Naturally, the dark elf knew the stigma associated with orthodox arcane healing. Too much risk of progression reversal. However that did not mean she would risk permanent scarring for barely a minute worth of experience.
Besides, the yards had a near none chance of reversal beyond thirty minutes.
"Have they been at it long," she asked, biting into her food.
"About half an hour." Narberal answered her.
The two men stood a few steps apart, hands gripping their swords. The bruised blond held his weapon with both hands, semi-crouched in a ready stance, his blade angled away from his front.
It was a brazen stance, but such was the nature of knights.
Lord Nishikienrai, on the other hand, assumed no stance at all, his chokutō pointed to the ground, his expression calm yet his eyes sharp. Uncharmed, she might have seen the arrogance behind the confidence— but she did not. Grace and mystery were her views of him, even as she had never seen his prowess.
The silence held for a few more seconds, then without much indication— at least none she noticed— the fight began.
The duke, despite the crippling restrictions enforced upon the dual arena, still approached speeds upon mundane. A dash with his chokutō aimed for the knight's chest.
In her mind, Aura could almost hear the attack skewering the air.
Yet the blond showed no panic. With the barest of movements, he sidestepped, allowing the attack to miss, and swiftly initiated his counterstrike. His blade scraped against the ground as he attempted an ascending slash at his now vulnerable opponent.
Faster— his movement almost a blur— the duke's free hand shot out, pinching the edge of the blade mid-swing. With a powerful leap, he used the force of the attack to boost himself upward, gaining even more height. Yet, despite his evasive skill, the blond's failed strike still carried a lethal note.
No sooner did the ninja master ascend that he returned, a rotational slash his attack. The knight shifted his stance a tad, barely daunted by his previous efforts, before executing an upward brandish that sent a loud echo upon contact with the duke's strike.
For a brief moment, the two appeared locked in a struggle, their weapons pressed against each other. Then, with a subtle tilt of his chokutō, Lord Nishikienrai allowed it to slide with a shrill scrape along the blond's sword, the chokutō impaling itself into the knight's trapezius.
A mere flinch was the extent of the blond's reaction to the attack.
Unfortunately, that was all the opening the duke needed to begin a vicious assault. With a quick flip of his blade, he deepened the strike, forcing the knight down to one knee, his teeth gritted in pain. But it didn't stop there. In a movement so fluid it seemed rehearsed, Lord Nishikienrai spun and delivered a sharp kick to the knight's shoulder, the force of the blow dislocating it.
He followed up with an unusual strike to the blond's spine. That, fortunately, seemed to be enough to secure his victory. The knight's muscles instantly seized, locking up and bringing him crashing to the ground.
Aura blinked, and saw the duke beside the blond, already pulling out his blade. "What was that move?"
It was hard to believe that the man could move this fast in an arena that suppressed speed and force to a mundane degree.
"Who knows," the duchess answered her, lips in a prideful smile.
The crowd began to cheer, and the physician and healers were already upon the fallen knight with diagnostic spells and high potions.
"Narberal, cheer for your father. I don't want him depressed all day because you didn't clap at his victories," the woman urged her daughter. "The Nine know the man has the emotional fortitude of a toddler."
"Kaa-san, I'm not—"
"If you don't I'm pulling you out of that stupid little group of yours and bringing you back home—"
The maid immediately began to clap, her face so bright and happy you would think she had not been coerced into the act.
'Well, at least she's adorable,' Aura decided.
In the yard, the duke beamed with pride at his daughter's congratulations.
"That's my girl," the duchess said with a wide grin. "Perhaps you'll have a sibling soon. Maybe even two."
The duke certainly had that look about him— the one the king had half the time he was in the queen's company. And the duchess was not so reserved with her desire, her chest puffed and trembling as if it was not ample enough.
Aura was only thankful that the woman drew a majority of the men's leers, and she did so without shame or reserve.
The moment passed, and the fights continued, each lasting no more than a minute, yet every bout was as brutal as it was spectacular. When the sun finally broke the horizon, only four fighters remained: the king, her cousin's betrothed, the scion of Bellriver, and Narberal's father.
All of them were strong, but Aura was confident that the king would win— not confident enough to place any wagers though. In fact, none of the people present were that confident…
The reason?
"I know you'll win this, my love. Don't spare these brutes your mercy."
…except for the queen, who was more of a distraction than anything. She had appeared a few moments into the fights, dazzling and accompanied by a massive entourage.
She had been cheering for her husband ever since, partly responsible for the king's bruises as her allure distracted him during critical moments. It did so for his opponents too, thus the reason defeat had not befell him yet.
Most days, she would have groaned at their risqué antics, but recently, the pair had become noticeably brighter and more pleasant. They ventured outside more often and seemed less fixated on their duties.
She suspected something might have happened, though she was too willing to pry.
Nevertheless, Aura was having a wonderful time…
…until she was not.
"You must have wondered why I had invited you here, yes." The duchess suddenly said, her gaze on her. The dark elf had, in fact, not wondered about that, she just assumed this was the reason. "I see you have not."
Aura shook her head in agreement, turning her full attention to the woman.
"I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. As I said, the king has spoiled you, whether you recognise it or not. Because of this, you have skipped many of the important lessons a person of your status ought to have learned."
Aura knew she was not as ladylike as many nobles. She was free-spirited, as the king often put it, though her cousin simply called her foolish. Of course, she disagreed with the latter.
Nevertheless, she held her tongue and listened to the duchess.
"Because of this, Büku has asked a favor of me, requesting that I tutor you in these...intrigues." The last part was said with a notable emphasis. "Lucky for you, my own daughter is just as spoiled, if not more so. So I figured, why not two birds?"
"And what would these…intrigues be, if I may ask," she finally said, despite the inevitability of her attendance.
"First, it will be behavioral lessons: actions, perception, and consequences." The duchess's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your roguish escapades into the city aren't as unnoticeable as you think them to be."
Aura's breath hitched.
"The queen had to work double just to make sure your identity wasn't compromised." She pointed at her feet, body, and eyes. "Scent alone isn't enough to mask your identity. Posture, gait, stature, tone, and most of all, personality."
The woman still continued. "Next is seduction. Acting, pleasuring, listening, and lying."
"What?" Narberal squawked, and Aura was just as horrified.
The duchess was not amused. "You two are of ancient blood; thus, you have duties and expectations to uphold, lest the reason for your privilege suffers from your entitlement." This time she pointed at her daughter. "Your father has spoiled you and lied to you still. Having a younger brother will not resolve your familial duties. It may lessen the burden, but it does not nullify it."
Narberal seemed to shrink into herself, embarrassed and resigned. Aura was not as defeated, though she was not enthusiastic either. She had just been told that her adventures with the common folk were not as secret as she thought, and the reason odd rumors about her weren't circulating was because of the queen's intervention.
As for the pleasure part— because that was honestly the most important— her cousin had shared the basics. Her tutors had simply advised her to be a dutiful wife. Though she was not entirely sure what that entailed, she felt it would be simple enough.
Apparently it was, in fact, not simple.
The woman turned to her, "When you came here, you passed by a group of maids near the gardens. Do you know why they were in a joyous mood?"
Aura blinked, and tried to remember, her brows furrowing. "Ah, something about the maid who works at the mess hall."
"Listening, observing, inquiring, making connections. Your maids know what's going on, yet you failed to inquire further, to gain information, to gain power." The duchess's disappointment was palpable, and despite her desire to remain unaffected, Aura shrank a little. "It matters little if you enjoy gossip or not. Learn to love it. It's not about you; it's about your family, your children, and theirs still."
The woman gazed into the yard, where the king was battling against his guard commander. The royal was making a spectacle out of the whole battle, all happy from the cheering of the queen.
He moved this way, his blade drawing a red line upon the knight's back, and then he moved that way, fading into nothing before appearing by his opponent's side and stabbing a sword into his left shoulder. Then he was three steps in the air, hands folded as he fell atop his opponent's head.
The duel was called, and the healers rushed to her cousin's betrothed, who chuckled good-naturedly despite his injuries and loss.
"Elgroth is about to enter a stage of high intrigue. In this stage, you will need wits and power beyond just the physical. Your life and house's prestige will be dictated by public perception— by the common folk. They will see your every action, judge them, then spread them. Truth or lies, it doesn't matter. As a noble, you must always strive to be ahead, lest you become a pawn."
The duchess finished, and both Aura and Narberal were quiet. Contemplative.
In her periphery, she saw the queen shoot the duchess a haughty look, one the duchess returned with her own. It appeared both of the women expected their husbands to win.
...…
...
…neither of them won.
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The Saint: Some of you might have noticed the more detailed date. Yea, because enough time has passed, and enough information has been acquired for the local timeline to be integrated. I chose Lower Wind because in the Novels, Nazarick arrived two months before Operation Gehenna takes place, which happens in the earlier days of the 9th month (Lower Fire).
Mariha is an expy of Minamoto no Raiko from FGO.
If you ever studied the intricacies of noble life, you'll know that most ladies used every advantage within their arsenal. None of what I mentioned was absurd. Simple things like emphasising one's chest (boob appeal) can alert a woman to a man's preferences (a lot of things can be done with this knowledge). Albedo and Mariha use this to great effect while passing it off as part of their personalities. Renner also does this, I will be showing this in her POVs (though I won't be blatant about it).
Unfortunately, those lessons wouldn't be a point of focus, especially since Narberal and Aura's personalities aren't so devious. However the effects of these lessons will be shown.
Anyway, provide feedback or criticisms. I also have 4 extra chapters on my Patreon. The next one will be an Interlude covering reactions and ramifications of the shutdown featuring the other transmigrator and an extra OC, followed by Enri's chapter (11) introducing us to the New World proper, then Finn Thaener (OC) chapter 12 which picks up where chapter 11 left off, and lastly Khajiit's chapter (13) which will provide insight into this part of the story.