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  In the snow-ridden lands of northern Ranesairan, change was seldom yet welcome by those who resided there. The manor of the Ducal family stood silent like usual — the warm corridors turned to be a contrast to the gentle fall of snow outside the windows; they lined the outside walls and insides of the rooms like portals to a more harsh and draining reality. But, even these moments of true serenity are bound to be broken once in a while.

  The head of the Dukedom was currently in his lodgings, enjoying a full cup of steaming and piquant... hot chocolate. Make no mistake — it was indeed chocolate, brought all the way from the other side of the island, the very underbelly of the landmass. The Duke’s chest heaved, the motion barely noticeable, and his weathered brows hung loosely over the shut eyes, the large right hand clasped around the vessel with the chocolaty liquid. The soft cushioned chair, the bottom portion of which was depressed under the weight of the man, was turned to face the outside through the large window, the curtains pulled all the way outwards from each other.

  A slight deviation of view, and the revealed image showed that the bed of the Duke was untidy, the rather modest accommodation that was enough to fit two people, had its sheets roughly pulled over the mattress and the pillows arranged asymmetrically in what mimicked hasty and uncaring manner. The overall spaciousness of the chambers filled if not with silence, then with the quiet sniffling of the Duke, whose mouth was open a fraction of the way. The man's clothes comprised a grey wool robe and wool slippers, the latter dragging barely across the parquet with each miniscule movement that was done in his state of dozing.

  The tranquility seemed to set even deeper as his head began to dip back over the backrest of the chair, his mouth opening wider in a yawn as the shoulders sagged along with the rest of the body. But it was not made to last as a loud shout poked him awake. Though, it was hardly louder than speaking volume, yet enough to almost cause a ringing in his ears — it is just that the sheer quietness of the room made the girl's voice sound awfully dissonant of the atmosphere beset in the room — "Papa!" A familiar face of a young lady with pure white hair and crystally clear blue eyes barged into the room, with shuffles of shoes on the wooden floor concluding inside the room’s bounds, the inaudible grind of the door hinges swiftly coming to a likewise halt.

  The Duke shuddered and snapped awake, his eyes, the colour of which was nearly identical to that of the girl’s, rolled out from under the eyelids as his fingers squeezed around the cup, almost spilling hot chocolate on the neat fabric of the armrest’s cushion. His head turned around slowly just after it lifted from the backrest, "Goodness gracious Shulya...!” The man's eyes were watering a little, “I told you to knock before you enter!" With a distraught expression the Duke said, the legs of the chair screeching against the floorboards as the wool feet spun it around in regular jerks, the face aimed at the girl the entire time, "What's it you need? If it's something that Jeann could do, why'd you come to me..." He sighed while finally facing his daughter fully, the hot chocolate soon leaving a trace on his thick white mustache, the beard left cleanly for now. "I don't think mom could do that." Shulya's tone was even and neutral, but her hands — both on level with the hem of her dark vest — pulled at the cuffs of her shirt as the eyes blinked a few times, slowly.

  His eyes carried a visage of weariness and variance to the girl’s own dejected and almost worrisome attitude. "I see... Something I can do, but not Jeann? What do you need, then?" The Duke skeptically stared at his daughter, throwing one leg over the other, and letting her continue, "You will be visiting the Raressanks, correct?" The Duke, sucking in his lips and humming, released the vessel of delight from his grip, then opened his mouth and said: "Shulya, you know you can visit him yourse—" — "No." Noting the straight face and slightly furrowed brows, The Duke understood better than to push it further. "I see..."

  "Quite resolute, has she always been this stubborn? The longer it drags on the more I feel like I can't even say his name in my own daughter's presence."

  After an acknowledging nod, the Duke pulled his robe to fit better on his body, his hands tensing as he tried to reach for the cup again, "What is it you want me to do at the Raressank's?" He resisted rolling his eyes as the child's face changed its hue from pale to slightly less pale, "I want to know how their expedition went." Her ability to maintain such stability in her voice is truly incredible, all that's left is to learn how to control her body language, as those thin fingers rolled the cuffs in many different ways before the father managed to let out another word.

  "If you wanted to know how the expedition went, you'd come to me after my meeting with Marpha.”

  The Duke stopped his hand before it grasped the vessel, turning back and rubbing the residue from his mustache.

  “You don't want to know how the expedition went, you just want to know how he fared out there."

  The Duke dismissively waved his hand, trilling his lips in the process. “Of course, I won't stray from detail when I speak to them. I'll let you know when I'll depart for Kolanaren." Shulya curtly nodded and reached for the doorknob, her hand already around the metal as the Duke spoke again, his gaze more accusatory now, "You will have to go speak with him eventually, you know." The daughter nodded a lot, but this time her face could be called a shade of pink. Though the sight was short-lived as the figure of the daughter vanished behind a solid construct of wood. The Duke rubbed his head repeatedly, shaking it in disapproval whilst taking a sip of the chocolate, rising up from the chair with a grunt and a few stretches of the neck. "What a girl... Huh."

  With those words he moved out of the chambers, it took him a few minutes to depart from the room and make his way through the corridors, passing by a maid, briefly stopping. He had to look down slightly to meet the maid’s eyes, taking a considerable breath before speaking, "Where's Shulya?" He asked without tension, the maid, who was clearly preparing for rounds of dusting on this floor — which was not often — gave him a concise reply, "The young lady should be in the library." An equally level attitude met the Duke, and he resumed his walk after a brief "Thank you."

  "At this rate she might actually finish all the books in the library, give a few dozen years and...”

  This time the Duke’s mouth was not open to yawn, but to express his distaste for that relation between him and literary products.

  “Ugh, this is making me feel dumb, maybe I should pick up a few tomes sometime soon."

  The carpeted floors crumpled under the weight of the Duke, soon the sounds of his muffled steps reaching a room on the first floor, where, upon opening the door, a sight of a regally dressed woman painting was revealed. It was lit mostly by the outside white, and it also happened to be the exact object of her painting. "Jeann, how is it today?" The Duke asked, trying to sound more or less discrete, and the woman, who shared to colours of hair and eyes with her spouse and child, as well as basically any other resident of the north, replied without moving her eyes away from the canvas, her voice quite heavy in tone, "Ludavik, care to explain why you're interrupting me?" The Duke mumbled under his breath, "It's not that serious to give me that tone..." Jeann tilted her head and moved her head slightly back, "The same as always, white and bright. It hurts my eyes." Ludavik chuckled, drawing his free hand up and resting the cup of hot chocolate at his chest-level. "Yet, you're still painting the same window time and time again." The Duchess lowered her appliances and put them on the small table beside the canvas.

  "You wouldn't be able to grasp the concept, but it is quite calming to..." Her nose sniffed with an obvious sound, the head turning to face Ludavik with a raised brow, "You old coot, how dare you brew chocolate without my presence?” Ludavik flinched, an awkward smile growing on his face, “How daring of you to touch such a prized product without sharing it with me. Come here." The Duke's voice hitched as he tried to retreat back, but the slightly wrinkled and stern face of the Duchess stood him in place, "Come. Now."

  Ludavik obeyed and sighed, the grit of his speech turning hoarse through the smell of oil paint as Jeann's hand extended towards him. “I could brew you a separate cup...” — "Give it up." He hesitantly and slowly moved his hand forwards, an expression of slight disappointment crossing the visible parts of his cheeks and brows, "You've got to paint, no?" Jeann, instead of allowing him further possession of the drink, gave him a penetrating look, "I'm basically finished already." She said, and the vessel of the brown and still hot liquid was forfeit to her.

  After a cheekful of chocolate, Jeann stood up from her chair and took a few steps back from the painting itself, looking at it thoughtfully. "Hm..." Ludavik, now with an expression of a mild grudge, walked to stand beside his spouse and stared at the canvas, moving his eyes between the window proper and the drawn depiction thereof.

  It took a considerable while of moments for her to speak. "This year's mix is frankly outstanding, I believe that we should acquire more when we are in the Domialle’s territory again." The Duke expected Jeann to say something about the painting, so the proclamation about the chocolate caught him by surprise. But, before he could point it out in a witty manner, Jeann broke off his trail of thought with a follow-up to her previous statement: "You spoke to Anna, did you not? Nothing less important could've brought you out of your precious snooze, so I would like to hear what she had asked you this time." The Duke crossed his arms and looked Jeann in the eyes as her head turned slightly to look him in the eye, "You could only guess what Shulya could've possibly asked me to do during my visit to the Raressank Dukedom.” Jeann did not give him the grace of back and forth, so he had to carry on by himself, “Of course I am now tasked with snuffing out how he who shall not be named did in the expedition that concluded a few days ago."

  The Duchess rubbed her temples, scoffing as she did so. "This dunce... I can't believe that someone as lacking in commitment as her is our daughter. Had she not been the only young lady on the entire damn island, that brat would've been swept up long ago.” She rolled her eyes, “I wonder how much longer it will take her to even look at him for more than a couple of seconds." Ludavik did not outright display it, but he surely could not help but agree with Jeann’s sentiment regarding this topic, shrugging his shoulders and staring out into the window, "It has been dragging on for a few years at this point, yet, we can't really force her or make her abandon any action. What an unfortunate predicament." The Duchess took a sip of chocolate, tapping on the cup afterwards.

  He shook his and rubbed his face downward, starting from the top, only to hold in a sniffle as his hand left the surface of his face. "Every time I see her, she looks so much different...! I took my eyes off her for a blink and now she's completely bewitched by a stranger man, it breaks my heart..." Jeann suddenly appeared to be pissed off quite a bit, and so she poked him in the ribs with her elbow, that was rather easy to achieve, since she was shorter than Ludavik, "It shouldn't surprise us that she changed so much, we are absent from the manor most of the time." The Duchess took a sip of chocolate as the Duke rubbed where his ribs had been assaulted. Her words carried further, the burdened expression thinning in gradual procession, "And now that I think about it; we should've moved her somewhere more crowded many years ago. Anna is a brilliant girl, but it doesn't change the fact that she is socially awkward, her experience with other people ends in the Mellanegi Dispanseria and the Ertin Academy, so I suppose it explains why it is taking her so long to gather up the courage to engage with...” She took another look at the man who was almost on the verge of tears, “Him."

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  After she broke contact with the Duke’s disappointing view, Jeann assessed her piece, ready to give it a view after resting her eyes from the oppressive white of the window. "Besides, out of us three, Anna is the one who’s trying to transform into a proper noble." The Duchess stared at Ludavik, whose attire was not kin to his status. Once the remaining volume of the hot chocolate got consumed, Jeann handed the cup back to her husband and went to sit back down in front of the canvas, reaching for the appliances, "Our best course of action in this case would be to simply wait, and hope that the other party takes the initiative eventually, if he is interested, that is. As far as my awareness of that boy goes, he is no less dense than our daughter...” The Duchess tapped her chin in thought, “But, perhaps, he is far more courageous than I imagine him to be, he did follow Marpha all the way off the island, after all." She began applying finishing touches to the oil image of the window and bounds beyond it, hearing the wool slippers skid by her, stopping just out of her field of view. "Otherwise..." — She stopped with the brush still pressed up against the fabric of the canvas — "Why don't you just tell him to come to us?"

  Ludavik's face froze in a mixture of horror and fear as he contemplated the words uttered just now, his right hand waving suddenly in denial. "You can't be telling me to allow him!" Jeann rolled her eyes and turned her face to the side, tilting it up and blowing wind into the Duke's face, "Just subtly invite him to come to our manor, he's got plenty of reasons to come. So, stop whining and be a considerate man at least once in your life." Shutting his eyes in discomfort at the smell of chocolate going up his nostrils, he took a step back and grumbled, the cup in his left hand almost spilling the few drops left inside onto the floor as his arms dropped, "She's too young to be courting men!" The Duchess almost threw her brush at him, but calmed down at the last second, "Put some faith in his son, you know Duke Raressank well enough, you've been together since you two were bloody kinds, have you not? His son is bound to be a slight bit like him so don't be so tense about it."

  Ludavik let out a pained laugh and replied swiftly: "That's exactly the problem! That bastard was not a nice fellow when he was young...! If that brat is truly like him, then I absolutely cannot allow—!!" He shut up when he met eyes with Jeann, who was not amused in the slightest. "Either stop whining or go throw your temper tantrum in Stryky, maybe it'll be of some use there. Lose your other pinky toe while you're there, too." The Duke inhaled hard through his teeth, but decided that it was best not to argue, sighing in defeat, "Alright. I'll subtly tell him to maybe come to the manor some time, when he is free of any duty. I hope that's good enough for you..." With many groans, he exited the room and closed the door behind himself.

  "God, what a child." Jeann, on the other hand, returned to her painting, but stopped all movement after she saw something on the canvas, "Wonderful... I messed up the whole thing because of that prick." She said, now thinking of ways to mask a long horizontal gush of white paint going across the entire left side of the painting, the path trailing where she had dragged her brush across, prepared to send it at Ludavik's head.

  The winds of the central Ranesairan plains remained just as harsh as there were long before the current date, the dark gates separating the single grim carriage from the property of the Duke. Outside of the manor it was quite desolate, no soul wandering past the doors under the grey clouds.

  Similar things could not have been said about the inside of the building, however. Days after the expedition to the continent had already been concluded and the young master of the Raressanks had returned home, a large collection of events bored into his head ever since his feet lost contact with the continental soil.

  Alladen and Ollade, as well as Orpha had gathered in the same dining room that they used to discuss the young master's very departure some time ago. The arrangement was just like before, too, although more similar than exact: Alladen a seat over to his father's left, Orpha just right of him and the two young daughters, Elkuta and Enfa, sat on the right side of the table. But, this time they were quite a bit further than previously for the lack of need as they were here almost on the sole purpose of actually having dinner.

  The young master of the house, still dressed in his fancy attire — without the stylish ponytail, though — seemed quite content with himself, gladly swallowing a spoon's worth of tea with a borrowed smug look on his face. In the meantime, Ollade had raised his elbows to the table and sighed while cracking his knuckles, the forearms perpendicular to the surface. Orpha kept her expression poised, but the area around her eyes was a little red. "What have you got to tell us, Alladen?" The Duke spoke with some genuine seriousness, akin to how he would usually talk to a messenger of his, "I believe it went starkly, father." Alladen was not one to waver in a situation like this, besides, he was one of the central figures of a major event for once.

  Watching the utter confidence reflected on his son’s face, Ollade felt a flicker unease at the thought of glancing back at his wife, so he didn’t look in her direction, for now. "You believe?" The Duke raised in tone in the span of those words, and his son slowly blinked as he gave his response, "It would be too hasty to derive any sort of final conclusion, at least based solely on an exclusive conversation with the Rannette kingdom's patriarch." The Duke nodded, nudging the young master to continue with a shot of his brow, "Otherwise, it went remarkably well!” Ollade hummed, quietly acknowledging the smile on Alladen’s face, “We managed to coerce Wasuen to sign the contract, and a few guarantees have been agreed upon on the sidelines." That said, this exact smile on the young man’s face brought a chuckle out of his father, “Is that so?”

  Orpha suddenly clicked her tongue, looking to the side, a sign Ollade feared the most as it would appear, judging from his own smirk that fell like a bird that got shot down from the sky. Alladen did not procure any immediate reaction, but did lower his enthusiasm in the tone of his voice, clearing his throat untimely: "...It would be best to address most of the credit to the Countess and Divine Duchess. In the end I doubt that we would've been able to secure a signature in a single sitting without Countess Usurbruk's input." Ollade briefly glanced at his wife before popping his lips and speaking. His hands lowered to the table and spread flat, the eyelids relaxing as he slightly leaned his head forward, looking at Alladen, "Yes, her capabilities are just as essential as her expertise.” He glanced aside, “Sadly, we cannot rely on Faleya the second time." There was a short silence in the room, save for the cluttering utensils of the younger siblings, as Alladen took his time to cleanse the palate with tea, "I can assure you that it will be the case. Had Marpha not brought the gold, Wasuen would've lost the allusion and returned to his usual self..." The young man himself tried not to pay any mind to the sizzling lizard, though he couldn’t escape what he had in his view.

  Orpha scoffed. This time Alladen flinched barely, furrowing his brows and eyes while setting down the cup. "Overall, I cannot understate the success that this expedition has come to be. No repeat of such an event will come about anytime soon." Ollade nodded once more, clearing his throat momentarily, adjusting his sitting position in the chair, "That aspect of hers was the exact reason for Marpha's choice to take her on the expedition instead of somebody else..." He kept trying to jab short glances to his right, Alladen gradually lowering his eyes to the table, rubbing the cup uncomfortably, filtering the possible words that he might say next.

  With a newly constructed smile, a sentence was voiced. "Aside from all the nuances that we had to account for on the battl... on the chessboard of diplomacy during our stay at the royal palace, the country itself was remarkably tranquil, I had seen not one altercation nor an engagement with any fiends by the populace. I had not spoken to any of the locals, however, which frankly appears to be a loss on my part as many of them looked respectable to an extent." The heir concocted verbally, not lifting his slightly worried eyes off the table, "Curious observations, Alladen." Ollade added after, "Judging by your lack of comments on things to people unrelated, I reckon that the nature of the continent did not leave a lasting impression on you?" Alladen picked his cup with his hand, a newfound composure beset upon him, so he eagerly accepted the change of topics, "Indeed, the flora there was awfully mundane, the fauna was no less uninspiring in its similarity to Ranesairan's. All I am able to point to is the miniscule difference in appearance and perhaps flavour differences; the tea we were served in the palace was unique, yet not particularly unpleasant."

  The Duke sighed, lifting his hands from the table, speaking. "It makes me want to have a little taste. That would be my request for the next visit to the continent." Ollade rubbed his beard, tilting his head to the side and closing one of his eyes, "Do you think that inviting a Witch would be a good idea to compile a concise overview of the continental nature?" Alladen hummed, putting his second hand around the tea cup, "Now that is something to be discussed in greater detail with the other nobles, moving any one of such important individuals is a tall ask.” Finally, Alladen raised his gaze from the wooden surface, “But Entau has to be documented in one way or another, preferably without the kingdom's input." The Duke moved his eyes back to his son, tapping on the table as he leaned his body on the left armrest, "Yes, it is best for us to have unbiased information, I'd rather not have any of the continentals involved in any of our research."

  "That leaves us with a deep ravine to overcome, since we know practically nothing of the continent, the setback is stupendous." Ollade only chuckled at Alladen's words, "No less stupendous was the work done in Stryky, Witches are no less strong as they are intelligent.” The Duke shot the heir a point of his finger, “I will contact Marpha in that regard." The young master seemed to be in agreement with that proposition, "The Duchess could have additional ideas if it comes to our conduct within Entau's bounds, it would be better to inquire beyond the topic of sending a Witch to the continent." The Duke lowered his hands again, "Exquisite idea, that I'll make sure to remember." Both men now are being coaxed into a state of relaxation, having gotten past the complicated themes of politics and elsewhat undesirable.

  Otherwise, the daughters appeared to be growing increasingly bored as the food was no longer present. "Does that mean that brother is finally free?" Elkuta inquired audibly in the dining hall, drawing the attention to herself, all while wiping Enfa's face clean with a handkerchief, their plates clean, only the afterimage of the meats staining the plates. "Oh..." Alladen turned his head with an awkward twinkle to his face, "I still have to..."

  "Yes he is. He is free." Orpha suddenly rose with her tone impassive, lifting her chin up and looking at Alladen sternly, "You are tired and require rest, no duties are upon you." The young man turned his face around in a dart, the fingers fidgeting with themselves, "W-What do you mean?" He raised his arms, slightly leaning and lifting from the chair, "I said what I said, I absolved you from all your current duties." Ollade didn't try to open his mouth, silently intertwining his fingers, squeezing and releasing them slowly without looking at his son, "But when??" The son, in a clear show of discontentment, tried to raise the poshness of his tone, "Now." Orpha, however, looked no else but in his dreary eyes, having no more wishes to argue.

  Alladen halted himself just before saying something again, nodding profusely as he rapidly blinked and looked his mother in the eyes, for he had no other option but. "Yes, I see... I-I'm glad that I can have some respite after all this running around." He tensed, but he still sighed with some relief, glancing at his sisters. Elkuta, having just witnessed the strange exchange, froze in place with her hand still hovering over Enfa's mouth, "Elkuta...! I can't breathe!" The older sister pulled her hand back from under Enfa's nose, who was now pouting. She began folding the handkerchief and spoke to Alladen, "Uhm... I need to change the strings on our violins, will you help us?" The older sister hid the handkerchief in the chest pocket on her vest, awkward in her speech, "Yes, sure. Of course. Let's get to it." The young man fumbled with the chair while trying to push it back, one of the legs snagged at a protruding floorboard, but soon he was walking along the table, in the general direction of the exit.

  With a smug smirk, Orpha observed the gradual withdrawal of her children from the dining room, leaving just the utensils and dinnerware on the table behind them. "..." Ollade glanced at her, and she didn't move her eyes away from the now vacant doorway, "Go with them, I'll come a bit later, I suppose." The Duke said, softening his tone. The dragon quickly rose from her seat and stretched the wings, shooting Ollade a mean look, "Don't go supposing around me, you will come." He quietly laughed while Orpha made her way out of the room as well.

  Now Ollade sat alone in the dining hall, his face neutral, and eyes posted forward. "Huh." He exclaimed while a maid came through to clean up, but not Moira. He inhaled and went to stand up, looking at the floorboards before setting foot, his pace slow.

  "At this rate we might have to converse with her again. Better said: we'd have to talk to her eventually. How unfortunate..."

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