Chapter 54 – Goodbyes

The chaos caused by the events during the melee lasted for days.

Bomfrey was in uproar as everyone involved struggled to manage the greatest dynastic crisis since the founding of the Triarchy, while at the same time Obelaine’s revelations sent a full-blown social scandal rocking the court and it reverberated far beyond aristocratic society. The situation was complicated by the fact that the College of Heralds had no precedents or protocol for this and had to improvise, which was something they really didn’t like to.

The debate over what had happened to Obelaine and how it should be assessed was quite bitter and certainly had an impact on the dynastic crisis as well. While many admired Obelaine’s courage and almost everyone felt sympathy for her, quite a few held the view that while it might be possible to consider being ruled by a queen one day, being ruled by a “dishonored” and “tainted” queen was simply too much.

Surprisingly, it was the Literalist faction within the Order of the New Forge that opposed this most vehemently.

“All suffering is part of the heat of the forge and is what shapes us and makes us what we must be to serve the work we cannot see,” a gnarled old paladin rebuked a group of nobles. “Whoever claims that the suffering that befalls us dishonors us or makes us lesser blasphemes against the Forge Father.”

And Obelaine had another loyal supporter whose unconditional backing came as a surprise to many Tulvians, if not to Shaelith: Prince Frambert.

The Prince of Nalvine declared, against the express opposition of his father that he intended to uphold the betrothal at all costs and marry Obelaine, provided she would forgive him and still want him at all. His vehemence silenced some of the criticism. 

Nevertheless, the mood was not unanimous.

What ultimately tipped the scales was the unanimous support of the banners. From Honor and the other two founding banners down to the most insignificant and youngest banners, they all threw their full weight behind Obelaine, leaving the realm’s magnates, who would have preferred a different solution, with no other choice.

After many long and tearful conversations with Obelaine and some very heated exchanges with Honor, who was still suffering from the effects of the fission, King Gelsevier finally accepted Obelaine his heir and the rightful bearer of Honor. 

Gwilet, on the other hand, needed several days to recover from his encounter with Grimbart’s chronosteel arm, and by the time both his eyes were looking in the same direction again, he was finished. Or at least almost.

The course of the melee had not only exposed him as the coward that Honor had been calling him all along, but had also unmasked him as a vile slanderer and liar of the worst kind.

While a lively discussion, largely driven by Frambert, was still underway about how to hold him accountable, he secretly slipped away, accompanied by his two lackeys.

Rumor had it that he had found refuge with those nobles who were not very enthusiastic about a possible personal union between Tulvia and Nalvine and found it useful to have a Tulvian prince in reserve, just in case. Even if it was a disgraced and disinherited one. 

I guess we’ll just have to live with Chekhov’s pretender still being around somewhere. At least for now.

~

Benderast looked like an overripe plum.

Over the past few days, Shaelith had done her best to nurse him and Grimbart back to health after the tournament, with Thaelon lending a hand with Grimbart and Mirrsoss helping them sleep peacefully with her wing dust.

Grimbart’s pierced leg was healing well, and he recovered from his concussion. After a few days, he was already fit enough to complain about the vegan food Thaelon was cooking for them.

Benderast… well, Benderast had taken a much worse beating. He had a badly broken nose, a chipped tooth, several lacerations on his face, a minor cut on his neck, a severe concussion, and the lance wound had reopened as well.

Shaelith had even been seriously worried for a moment when, right after the melee, he’d fallen into a sort of delirium, asked for his Nintendo Switch, and called her “Mom.”

But fortunately, that had quickly subsided. He was slowly starting to feel better. Her mycelium healing wasn’t perfect, and some things simply took time to heal properly.

And he was mostly back to his old self already.

“That quest gave a ton of XP,” he managed to say through his swollen lips.

“You’re supposed to eat, not talk.” Shaelith placed another blackberry in his mouth, which he began to chew very carefully.

“I… I hope I’m not interrupting, Lady Shaelith?”

She turned around and saw Prince Frambert standing in the doorway, looking serious.

“No, come right in.”

Frambert stepped inside, nodded to her, and then knelt down at the edge of the bed next to Benderast, who was struggling with his blackberry.

“I would like to ask for your forgiveness, Benderast Stonefist. I have spread outrageous allegations and lies about you and publicly sullied your honor.”

“Oh well, you didn’t make up the lies yourself,” Benderast croaked.

“Nevertheless, I believed them and repeated them, and I intended to cause you pain. And I did cause you pain. There is no excuse for that.”

Benderast shrugged, which drew a cry of pain from him. “Eeh, let’s just forget about it. It was a damn good fight.”

Say what you will about Benderast, but he’s not the type to hold a grudge.

Frambert looked at him in surprise. “Honor wasn’t wrong about you.”

The prince rose and, without hesitation, drew his sword. Benderast flinched. Then Frambert placed the flat blade of the sword on the shoulder of the bewildered Benderast.

“I, Prince Frambert Bellevoir of Nalvine, hereby name you a knight of the triarchy.”

He now placed the blade on his other shoulder. “Rise, Sir Benderast Stonefist… um, maybe just a little, at least. If you can?”

With Shaelith’s help, Benderast managed to half-raise himself up.

“Oh wow,” he said, glancing at his UI. “It comes with a passive ability even.”

Frambert looked over at Shaelith in confusion, but she just smiled and shrugged, letting the poor guy know there was nothing for him to understand. 

After the prince had left, the little sentient banner Valor dared to emerge again. Barely bigger than a handkerchief and still slightly torn at the edge where it had split off from Honor, it crawled onto Benderast’s shoulder and snuggled up to him.

It was still too small to speak. Tancred had explained to them that it could take a long time for a new banner to find its own voice.

Still, Benderast really enjoyed chatting with the tiny thing. “Look at that, Valor! First, he almost killed me, and now he just knights me out of the blue. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Valor fluttered his fringes in agreement.

Even Grimbart had taken the little banner to his heart. Probably because it talked less. “When I’m back on my feet, I’ll attach a little pole to Benderast’s armor, so it has something to hold onto,” he had said with an expression that looked almost a little like tenderness.

And when Shaelith wasn’t busy caring for Benderast and Grimbart, she was writing a long and detailed report for Laenre, in which she described everything that had happened since their arrival here, the direction Tulvia was likely to take, and how she assessed the situation in terms of the interests of House Vyrnara and Myzelemaerlazin.

It’s hard to say if Mother will be happy with how this turned out, but I’m sure she’ll make the best of it anyway.

~

Once the wounded had slowly but surely recovered and it was clear that they would be leaving for Cobalt City the next morning, Shaelith went to see Gaudbert in his quarters one last time.

He smiled warmly and bowed elegantly to her. “I’m very happy to be able to see you one last time, Shaelith.”

“What makes you think we’ll never see each other again?” She sat down in the chair he pulled out for her.

“You can never be sure.” He poured her a mug of moss wine. “But I hope we’ll see each other again in the future. At least, I have an idea how to make this come to pass…”

“Oh, really?”

“I’ve asked the Triarchs for the privilege of being sent as Tulvian ambassador to the Shaeravyn. My chances are pretty good, I think.” He struggled to suppress a smug grin.

Shaelith laughed out loud. “You want to move to Myzelemaerlazin?”

“Why not? You Shaeravyn fascinate me. Your spoken and braided languages, your culture…” He winked at her. “…and your hospitality.”

You could call it that.

But actually, it wasn’t a bad idea. He knew Shaeravyn culture well enough, was unfazed by it, was even sympathetic to it, in fact, and would be able to represent Tulvia well. And in Myzelemaerlazin, they’d be delighted to have him.

“I like the idea,” she said. “And I’m sure you’ll be very popular there.”

“I certainly hope so, if I may be honest!”

“You may.” She leaned toward him. “Come here!”

Willingly and curiously, he leaned toward Shaelith, and she reached into his beard and braided a little message into it. Does incredible things with his mouth.

Gaudbert felt the message in his beard but couldn’t make out the meaning. “What does it say?”

Shaelith stood up. “Just a message for my mother.”

“But what does it say?” He stood up as well.

Shaelith, however, remained silent and merely smiled at him, then gave him a quick kiss and walked toward the door.

“Shaelith!” He called after her, laughing. “What does my beard say?”

“Farewell, Gaudbert!”

~

As she made her way back through the castle to her chambers, Shaelith passed a passageway leading out onto the battlement, where two figures stood close together.

They were Benderast and Obelaine.

Oh well, that’s interesting.

Of course, she stopped and watched.

Obelaine, who had taken Benderast’s hand, was speaking to him, and Benderast listened with his head bowed. He looked more serious than Shaelith had ever seen him when he replied to her. Almost sad.

And then suddenly, he leaned down toward her and they kissed. Taken by surprise, Shaelith took a step back.

What the hell?

Before Shaelith could make sense of it or decide to just keep walking, Obelaine stepped through the doorway into the stairwell and nearly collided with Shaelith.

Obelaine smiled sadly and had tears in her eyes, but when she saw Shaelith, the princess took Shaelith’s hand and even pulled her into a tight embrace.

“You have no idea how lucky you are,” Obelaine whispered in her ear before letting go of Shaelith and hurrying up the stairs.

I certainly have no idea what to make of this.

She peeked cautiously around the corner. Benderast was still standing at the battlement with Valor on his shoulder, gazing down at the hills with a slightly pensive expression.

She stepped out and stood beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He turned to her and was silent for a moment. “She asked me to stay here and… she said she loves me.”

“And what did you say?”

Benderast didn’t look at her. Instead, he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “I… I told her that I think she’s great… but… but that I don’t love her. And that she definitely deserves someone who really loves her. Someone like Frambert.”

“And then you kissed?”

“You saw that?” He laughed helplessly. “No… I… she was disappointed but said she accepted it. But she asked me for a kiss, just one. And, um… I didn’t know what to do… it seemed wrong to turn her down.”

Hoo boy.

“So how was it?”

“Weird. I mean… not bad, but weird… because… well, I wouldn’t have thought… you know, it was my first kiss. I’d imagined it differently.”

Yeah, I guess you did. But still… the system showed her to you as an available romance option, and you made your own decision anyway. Progress.  

“You really are a dork, you know that?” Shaelith said.

Benderast smiled guiltily. “I probably am, am I?”

They were silent for a while before he looked at her again. “What were you doing here, anyway?”

“Visiting Gaudbert to say goodbye.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose he’s feeling better now, too?”

“Sure. He’s a tough guy. He asked the Triarchs if he could go to the Shaeravyn as an ambassador.”

Benderast tried to raise his eyebrows, which looked unintentionally funny given the remaining swelling. “Gaudbert in Myzelemaerlazin… well, it kind of fits. I think he’ll have a lot of fun there.”

“Jealous?”

Benderast seemed to really think about it for a moment. “No… I think?” He seemed surprised by himself. “Although that would make… things… easier.”

She gave him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “Maybe you’ll meet a nice girl in Cobalt City.”

Benderast sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”