附近出来卖的学生怎么约

The two of them sat alone in the Dandalan patriarch’s study. Things had simply ended up this way. He was unused to being anywhere without Anneliese, but right now he felt fine with it.

“The leader has no title,” Leopold shook his head. “This position has been taken only once before. It has no name because it is fundamentally transitory. The Grand Council would not abide giving legitimacy to the position by assigning it a title—I am merely the leader of Relize.” The aged patrician looked to Argrave. “Soon enough, I’ll be calling you ‘your Majesty.’”

Argrave nodded. “You’ll put the crown on my head, most likely.”

Leopold leaned into his desk. “Less excited than I thought you’d be.” The patrician pulled back a drawer, retrieving a casket. He pried it open with his knife, then retrieved a purple bottle. “Want some wine? This is fine stuff, and I know you have quite a thirst.”

Argrave shook his head. “Enjoy it,” he said somberly. “So, I suspect you’ll be revoking the Rescindment of Profligacy and Corruption?”

Leopold nodded. “On the day of your coronation. Bit of… sleight of hand. Hide something monumental behind something even more monumental.” The man thumbed at the cork, looking around for something to remove it. “First thing… we have to send the Relize magic architects out to that site you spoke of. They’ll examine the mountain and determine if this fortress you intend to construct in Indanus is actually feasible.”

Argrave’s brain cleared for a moment, reminded of his duty. “That’s good. Don’t forget to bring Melan along for that—he owes me.”

“Not sure how you managed that thing with the vampires…” Leopold shook his head. “I’m especially not sure how you got the Wratsons to help you with that. They’re… standoffish. It’s a comforting development, nonetheless. I never knew they had an S-rank mage in their service… they’re the only in Relize, I think…”

“Mmm,” Argrave nodded, not feeling his typical urge to show off or act grandiose. “Leopold. If one of your sons killed someone, what would you do? And not in self-defense, not in passion… but cold-bloodedly.”

Leopold had been fiddling with the bottle’s cork with his knife, but he stopped and looked at Argrave. “What do you mean, ‘if?’ Rex did.”

“Rex?” Argrave repeated.

Leopold nodded. “Yes, Rex. He was… well, he was a grandson, come to think of it… but I loved him well enough to call him my son. His father died in a raid, you see, so I mostly raised him. He…” the patrician paused. “I don’t want to talk about it. This is supposed to be a happy day, you damned fool,” he rebuked. “Shortly put, I disinherited him and turned him over to the Council’s hands.”

“Immediately?” Argrave pressed.

“…no,” Leopold admitted. “It took… some time. Had to change my mind… see him for who he really was. See how I failed. Steel myself.” He shook his head, then stroked his beard once. “Enough of this. Move on.”

Argrave nodded slowly, staring at the windows behind Leopold and into the rushing river.

#####

“I think you should give her a pass,” Durran said to Argrave. “Maybe if you’ve got another natural disaster on your radar, you might show it to her like you showed me that tower falling down. Got me in line, didn’t it?”

Argrave was in no mood for jokes, and he stared Durran eye-to-eye, waiting for the man to speak further. Though they sat in the dining hall, alone at dusk, neither touched the food before them.

Durran’s face hardened slightly when Argrave didn’t even crack a smile. He explained himself seriously, saying, “The people she disposed of… cowards and opportunists. They’d be the first to back out once it came time to fight Gerechtigkeit. She’s established new leaders in Atrus—ones that she chose, ones that can help us.”

“You’d have traitors instead of cowards,” Argrave pointed out frankly. “That’s certainly reliable.”

Durran shook his head. “Most of them weren’t aware of what Elenore is doing. Even the delegates that came here… they didn’t have any clue of Elenore’s plans. She couldn’t risk them telling you, after all.” The former tribal leaned in closely, moonlight shimmering against his golden tattoos. “And she’s right. Felipe orchestrated this, not her. She just… helped him along.”

Argrave laughed, but not out of amusement.

“And think of it. Now, the king has spurred the north into opposition against the crown. They’re further dividing their forces because more foes actively antagonize the loyalists,” Durran explained heatedly. “This was the smart thing to do. We have to win this war.”

“All I see is more deaths on the board,” Argrave finally spoke his thoughts earnestly. “So, Atrus was staying neutral—good. Fewer people die. More are ready to confront the true threat, Gerechtigkeit, unscarred by war and battle.”

Durran leaned away a bit. “Instead, you’d have more of our people die fighting a stronger opponent?” He lifted his hands up. “If we win easier, Argrave, much less of our people perish. Our people, with proven loyalty and steady allegiances.”

Argrave shook his head.

Frustrated, Durran pounded the table. “Don’t give me that ‘defiled saint’ act,” he said insistently. “I talk with Galamon more than you might think. He talks. I know that you killed those druidic scouts. How was that situation different? These people hadn’t harmed you, hadn’t harmed anyone. But they were pivotal in gaining an advantage in battle, in war. You slaughtered them all.”

That gave Argrave pause. Was the situation different? He thought it was, but he had long ago come to terms with the fact that he’d done that. Maybe his own bias was blinding him to the fact that Elenore had good reason to do what she did, no matter what line she’d crossed.

“…if it was the same, why did she think she had to hide what she was doing from me, from all of us?” Argrave asked, not knowing the answer himself.

“That’s…” even Durran, devil’s advocate that he was being, couldn’t answer that. “I don’t know, Argrave.”

Argrave nodded, coming to much the same conclusion himself.

“The whole time I’ve been travelling with you… say what you will, but you always act as though you know best,” Durran said. “You deceive people—even your allies—to get them to do what you want. You started out deceiving Elenore. You think you have their best interests in heart. Like sister, like brother. You’d be a hypocrite, parting ways with her.”

“I…” Argrave began, but then realized he was just trying to defend himself of the accusation of hypocrisy. “Keep talking.”

“I wanted… want,” Durran corrected. “I want things to work out between the two of you. I… well, you know me. You know my twin sisters, what they did,” he threw up his hands. “They killed themselves. One in particular… Chinusa. She did some terrible, terrible things to a lot of people before she went. It was… I don’t know. Maybe she was making everybody hate her before she dove to the other side. Or maybe she was seeing if there was anybody who’d actually stick with her when all she did was test. Test, strain, and hurt.”

Argrave looked at him, lost for words.

“Elenore’s not really like Chinusa. I don’t think… I don’t think there’s any chance of her… doing what she did,” he said, evidently having trouble saying it aloud. “Their personality… way too different. Regardless, Argrave… I’ve said my piece.”

#####

“There is no guilt. No shame. Only conviction,” Anneliese told Argrave. “She truly believes in what she did.”

“And how does she feel knowing she deceived?” Argrave pressed.

The both of them sat on their bed. Galamon was there, too, standing near the door. As ever, he acted as their guard.

“If it bothered her overmuch, she would not have done it,” Galamon was the one to answer.

Argrave turned his head to the usually stoic man. “You have thoughts on this?”

“In war… if you innovate, move the line on the bounds of what you’re willing to do…” Galamon looked back, white eyes cold. “The enemy will do it too.”

Argrave furrowed his brows. “Margrave Reinhardt didn’t spread the plague in northern lands even once he’d learned that’s what was happening,” he disagreed at once.

“As was demonstrated today… a leader doesn’t control their subordinates absolutely,” Galamon pointed out. “One of his people likely would have. The news never spread. And we stopped the plague. Something like this changes the culture of the war. Honor is needed for the future. With honor, you ensure what depths you sink to will not one day be returned to you redoubled.”

Argrave lost himself to silence. He thought Galamon was right, at least partially. But then, Felipe would sink to any depth, so it was a somewhat pointless argument. And Gerechtigkeit… no honor existed there. He was a bottomless pit.

“…I’m sorry about this, Argrave,” Anneliese spoke. “I was unalert. I noticed incongruities, but she had explanations on hand for each. I allowed myself to grow lax. Getting drunk… what was I thinking?”

Argrave shook his head. “It’s my fault. I didn’t convince Elenore that we’d be able to win without doing something this drastic. I didn’t earn her trust well enough.”

“You absolve her too readily. She chose,” Galamon reminded him.

Argrave laid back against the bed. “I’ll need to talk to her again… tomorrow.”

“What about?” Anneliese pressed.

“I think we should figure that out,” Argrave looked to Anneliese.

#####

Argrave knocked on a solid wooden door, then put his hands behind his back. A woman opened it—Argrave recognized her. She often attended to Elenore. She cast a glance back, opened the door wider, and then stepped past Argrave. He walked inside the room.

Elenore sat on her bed. She was leaning down, turning the cranks on her prosthetic feet to tighten the clamps. Having donned much of the bronze jewelry, Argrave knew she saw him… or perceived him, whatever the proper term was.

“You’re here,” she greeted him normally, like whatever had happened was all but a dream. She finished her task and stood up. “I have some tea. Mint, sweetened, just as you like it,” she stepped towards a table. “I’m surprised that Anneliese isn’t with you.”

Argrave shook his head and shut the door behind him. “I don’t need her here. Not for this.”

Elenore did not spare a glance back. “You’ll have tea, I hope.”

“Sure, we can have tea,” Argrave agreed amiably. “But I think I should get to the point right away.”

Elenore stopped walking, turning back. “Is that right?”

Argrave nodded. “Yes, it is. Simply put… I don’t think we can work together moving forward.”

Elenore leaned against the table, and Argrave briefly thought he had surprised her so badly she lost her balance. Her face was steady, though, telling him he might be wrong.

“…what do you mean?” she asked him, voice monotone.

“I made a mistake,” Argrave said. “My parents always told me not to get into business with family. Guess they were right,” he broke off into a chuckle.

“So, you…” Elenore paused a long while. Her face shifted as she digested things. In the end, her face settled and she asked, “What’s going to happen?”

“Well… the ball is already in motion. I’ll be going through with the war, the coronation… but I can’t, in good faith, involve you in things. I won’t be consulting you. I won’t be asking you for any more favors.” Argrave spread his arms out. “I can’t put it any other way. We won’t be working together.”

Elenore exhaled, crossing her arms and lowering her head. “So… I expect you’ll want me out of Leopold’s mansion, then?”

“No,” Argrave corrected her at once. “Far from it. You’re as welcome here as I am. I’ll come by occasionally, talk, have some tea… so long as I’m welcome. So long as you’re willing to stay.”

“…I’m not following,” Elenore said after a time.

Argrave sighed. “Elenore… sister,” he said somewhat forcefully, walking closer. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I like you. I do. I know…” Argrave trailed off, gathering himself. “I know that you wanted to help. I know that you don’t feel like you did anything wrong. But I can’t condone what you did. I can’t work with someone who doesn’t have faith in me,” he put it plainly.

“You don’t trust me,” she raised her head up to him, eyeless sockets seeming to fix him in place.

“You would never harm me. You would never harm any of the people I care about. I believe that whole heartedly. Personally speaking, I think I could… overlook what you’ve done,” he admitted. “Maybe that makes me a pushover. Even still, I believe you when you say what you did was in my best interest,” Argrave said confidently.

Argrave took his hands off her shoulders. “But there’s a lot more at stake than me and mine. I’m not going to weep over the people you helped Felipe assassinate. I didn’t know them. But this is as far as we go. You knew I wouldn’t want this result, yet you did it anyway—no, that’s not right. You did it secretly because of that.” He sighed once more and shook his head. “Getting angry about it, trying to punish you… that would be a ridiculous waste of time. I don’t want to alienate you. But you have, it seems, a different destination in mind. If we both steer in opposite directions, we’re bound to crash.”

Elenore swallowed, turned her head to the side, then turned back. “But what will you do? I mean… we talked about your plans…” her voice was wavering slightly.

“That’s my concern,” Argrave informed her with a sad smile. “Don’t worry about it, though—all will be fine. Put it out of your mind.”

The words clearly shook Elenore. Both of them knew she had said those exact words to Argrave in the past. “But I came here… I did what I did, to…” she couldn’t finish her sentences.

Argrave took a deep breath. “I know. You gave up a tremendous amount. That’s why I’ll tell you this; if you need anything from me, I can help you. As a matter of fact, the time we travel to Vysenn to engage with the barbarian tribes comes closer every day. I’d like you to come with me so that you might be healed fully. I’m not severing ties,” he assured her, giving her a hug. “I just… overestimated myself.”

When Argrave felt Elenore shake slightly, he felt some twinge of guilt in his heart. But… well, it was best to fight deception with deception, after all. Elenore would never see if he didn’t do something drastic like this—something that made her really reflect. After all, she still thought she did fundamentally nothing wrong.

And once she had reflected? Well… he’d welcome her back. Until then, he was the concerned yet disappointed family member.

Argrave pulled away. “Let’s sit down, have some tea. How have you been feeling these days?”