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[The Distinguished Mr. Rose] Chapter 91: A Dubious Proposal
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 01:10:33 +0000 UTCAfter a couple more formal proceedings were held, the courtroom quickly dismissed and the members all headed off to continue their prior duties. Lucius’s ceremony wasn’t as eventful as he expected; rather than a parade or some kind of public spectacle, Sir Ganelon signed a few papers, shoved (rather rudely) a shiny crystal emblem representing Lucius’s new status into his hands, and then summarily waved him off.
The gentleman thought that he might have an audience with the Franks’ emperor for once, an official one at least, but both Ganelon and even the Archbishop swiftly forbade it, citing health reasons and the odd excuse as the cause.
Thus with nowhere else to go, Lucius rejoined with Mister Renaud, and the two returned to Roland’s side. The man greeted them, lifting his helm’s visor to reveal a wide smile.
“So, how does it feel, Sir Lucius?” he said, patting him on the back. “You are officially our equals in rank. With this, our fight against Ganelon is certain to end in our victory.”
Lucius chuckled and gently lifted the man’s arm away. “I am ever the same, my friend. Titles and fanciful insignias change not that I am a dandy soul to my core.”
While the two of them were busy delighting in their pleasantries, a certain sibling pair had finally reunited after many long years.
Mister Renaud stood awkwardly before Lady Bradamante and scratched his head. Neither of them spoke for a time, although it didn’t appear to be out of hostility. They simply didn’t know what to say, what to talk about. All this time spent far apart, only to have the distance suddenly closed within days… was it any wonder they still felt uncomfortable?
Yet even so, there was a connection between them that couldn’t be seen. Lucius and the others dared not interfere lest it be broken; and eventually, Bradamante stepped forth and made the first move.
“It’s, um, good to see you,” she said, muttering in a low tone. “You look better.”
“Am I?” Renaud asked with a wry smile.
“Well, you haven’t cursed me once yet so you’re off to a good start.”
“Mm, and you no longer shy away as if the mere sight of me is an embarrassment.”
“I had every reason to when you decided to become Ganelon’s little pawn.” Bradamante narrowed her eyes. “You know what he’s done to our family.”
“He helped us.”
“No, he ruined us. He sent father off to die to the demons just so he could inherit the house when seducing mother didn’t work.”
“Is that what he told you?”
She clenched her fists. “What didn’t he tell me, between all the gloating? Everything that’s happened to us, the reason why mother died, every bit of misfortune that’s fallen to our family—he made certain that I wouldn’t forget.”
“Yes, that does sound like him.”
“Then why, Renaud? What compelled you to follow his orders?”
Lucius could feel quite clearly just how much she despised the High Tribunal; and yet, unbeknownst to her, the true culprit for her family’s tragedies was none other than the lord she served.
“Allow me to ask a question, then,” Renaud said, his voice frigid like ice. “Why did you become a paladin?”
Bradamante crossed her arms and glared at him. “Because I wanted to help people, to make an actual difference unlike our house that only cared about its own wealth.”
“Then why did you serve in the holy war?”
For that, Bradamante had no answer.
“I suppose it is a happy ending for you, is it not? You met your current husband there, as well as prevented more lives from perishing. Truly, an exemplary display of Chivalry. Our Lord would be proud.”
Ruggiero stepped in to defend Bradamante, but she stopped him with a soft push and turned back toward Renaud.
“He’s right,” she said, taking a shaky breath. “I knew how depraved the emperor was, and yet all I could do was hope that he was busy elsewhere. But that’s because I had no other choice. You and Ganelon aided in his war efforts just as I did. What makes us any different?”
“Nothing,” Renaud replied immediately, which caused Bradamante to stumble back in surprise. “You are correct. I aided him for the sake of my own self interest, and because I was afraid. I joined with Ganelon as we held a common goal; it is no more complicated than that. I cared not about the morality of my tasks and fooled myself into thinking that the result would all be worth it, that our efforts would one day be understood for the good it would bring, and that is why we are no different, sister. We both have sinned because we were too cowardly to do otherwise.”
From all Lucius had heard of the former emperor, it was no surprise that the nation was powerless before his commands. Those with power often find reason to abuse it; and yet, his Holiness was particularly noteworthy even amongst the warlords of Earth. He had great wealth, power that defied human imagination, and most importantly a dominance over religion—anyone that rebelled against his reign lived not to speak of it.
“... How did you live with it?” Bradamante asked.
Renaud replied with a thoughtful expression. “Hm, perhaps bitterness? Spite, hate, a burning revenge that consumed all that I was. Every day that I sharpened my blade kept my mind busy from realizing how hollow I truly was.”
“Hah, yeah. I guess we really aren’t that different,” she said with a sad laugh. To her side, though, Ruggiero hugged her tight and comforted her with his presence.
“Not exactly.” Renaud looked at the two, and a glimmer passed through his eyes: conflicted—jealous, perhaps—yet glad that his sister wasn’t all alone during her ordeals. She had someone trustworthy to console her when the world felt far too cruel.
Even now, long whittled down into a shade of his former self, he wished for her to be happy.
Renaud hung his head back and took a deep breath, before looking over to Lucius and gesturing him over. The gentleman obliged and, after the two whispered amongst each other for a bit, reached into his suit pocket before pulling out a small bracelet made of flowers. The former Peer had requested it be made the night they had returned. Lucius wasn’t quite sure what it was for back then, but Renaud’s sincerity now gave all he needed to know.
The man walked up to Bradamante and presented her with the floral bracelet.
“This is…” she whispered, holding the delicate petals. “A blue hydrangea?”
In the language of flowers, a hydrangea had many meanings. Oftentimes it was used to represent purity or abundance; yet in other cultures it had a much more heartfelt meaning, that of gratitude, understanding—and apology.
“Congratulations on your wedding, sister,” he said. “I wish you a long and prosperous life ahead.”
Without another word, Renaud left for the exit, leaving Lucius and the other Peers alone to watch him off.
Bradamante gently held her gift for a brief moment. A wave of emotions washed over her, those fickle feelings that came and went regardless whether one willed it or not, and she held the bracelet over her heart; and she closed her eyes—she struggled, and she feared that this moment would leave her.
The two siblings’ history was long and ill-fated, yet in her hands was a possibility no manner of words could fully express. Just like how Renaud had let go of his past, so too did his sister raise her head and look out to the sunset glimmering in promise.
Thus did the evening come to an end; but where one chapter ended, another followed soon after. Unfortunately for Lucius, his next days were not nearly filled with as much excitement.
His new title as Peer was met with great surprise by the players, especially Marco, Mili, and Harper, who all had collectively gasped in awe when he came to inform them of his happenings during the court session. Mili asked him if she could become a Peer as well, to which the gentleman had to sadly let her down.
Her gloomy mood wouldn’t last for long, however, for with the glamor of Peership also came the responsibility of knowing its, well, responsibilities. Lucius attended many classes hosted by his fellows in rank all throughout the week. His teachers often cycled between Lady Angelica and Sir Olivier, who drilled into him all there was to know about his current powers as well as his influence over the nation.
One notable example included the Right of Assembly. Simply put, he could command paladins in other cities and order them to follow his directions should he ever require assistance in foreign lands. Of course there was a limit to what he could ask, nothing unsavory, but it would be quite useful in Lucius’s plans later down the road.
Another was the ability to, as he and Renaud had planned earlier, to form a faction. Most officials and influential figures in the nation were forbidden from having their own private militia. The only reason House Dordognes was exempt from this ruling was because their current head, Ganelon, was a Peer himself.
Thus did Lucius organize to have his very own Otherworlder Order, funded and formally operated with the nation’s approval. However, he met with an unexpected variable along the way—very few players were willing to join.
In the weeks Expedition Argo had been gone, Ganelon jumped at the opportunity to socialize with the empire’s new visitors. All the people Lucius’s fellows tried to gather had refused and told stories of the High Tribunal’s kindness: How he worked and spared no effort in making their stay a pleasant one, even personally visiting their places of work in checking to make sure they had no complaints. His supposed compassion was a welcome boon for those still traumatized by the fortress’s events; and though Roland’s faction also attempted to do the same, Ganelon was simply better at publicity.
Loud, bold, and with great presence—he made sure to announce his arrival wherever he went so that the players would never forget just who it was that was responsible for everything they enjoyed.
All those who were supposed to be united in a common goal, advancing the game, were instead swayed to Ganelon’s faction. Lucius had to admit, the man was capable. At this rate the gentleman would be hard pressed to gather a suitable force.
Time marched on, and soon a few weeks had come to pass without much incident. In the end Lucius managed to bring about thirty additional players into his new Order, most of them being those he had travelled with during the expedition.
Even with the additional help, however, there really wasn’t much need for them to act. Roland and Ganelon’s power games continued to surge in the background, but there was one matter that they agreed to cooperate in, and that was the mystery of the Demon King’s fragment.
Many a priest and scholar attempted to analyze it, only to be met with failure. No one but the players could draw close; everyone else was at risk of turning into a demon, even the Peers. Lucius told them of the odd message he saw inside and asked them whether the contents could have been written from someone of the Franks’ history, a former emperor perhaps, but no such association was found. Truly, they were all dumbfounded.
According to Roland, there was no unusual demonic activity anywhere in the empire after the spite found by the expedition was destroyed. One of the Great Evils had fled somewhere hidden after Angelica and Astolfo were chasing after the Ears, while the other was currently being tracked by Sir Ferragut in the deserts of Arabia, where the Saracens called home.
It was during the evening of one particular session that Ganelon bid Roland and the Archbishop a surprising proposal.
“Frankly, my boy, I see no reason why we should concern ourselves over this fool’s errand,” Ganelon said. “It’s possible that the other spires have yet to even form.”
Roland didn’t quite like agreeing with the man, but his words held some truth.
“Be that as it may, what else are we to do?” Roland asked. “Ruggiero is holding strong at the fortress and the Demon King has yet to act.”
To that, Ganelon bid him a shrewd grin before waving to the other Peers. “It has been many years since we’ve had such spare manpower. Why don’t we use this chance to hunt down the remaining Great Evils?”
Roland’s faction stared at him in disbelief, for it was Ganelon himself who had prohibited them from partaking in such hunts not even a year prior.
“You would allow this?” Roland questioned with a grim frown. “I am not necessarily opposed, but what’s brought this change of heart?’
Ganelon shrugged and acted innocently. “Come now, my boy, such suspicion is unseemly of you. I merely wish to rid our people of unease, and what better chance to lighten our spirits than to be rid of these ghastly demons once and for all? Besides…”
The man swiveled in his seat and directly addressed Lucius.
“... I’ve heard promising things about you, Sir Lucius,” he said. “You’ve got quite the record, I see. For two of the Great Evils to fall before you in so little time is, well, unprecedented. Surely the others will be just as simple, hm?”
Roland uttered a low grumble and fiercely stood up. “You would have Lucius hunt the demons alone?”
“Alone? Of course not! Do you really think I’d be that callous?”
“Then spit it out already. I know you’re planning another scheme.”
Archbishop Turpin coughed loudly into his fist and fussed over the two feuding Peers, pleading for them to calm down. “Let us be civil now, gentleman. This behavior is most unsightly.”
Roland begrudgingly sat back down, and Ganelon continued with his spiel.
“How could I ever in good conscience send the chosen hero to fend off our enemies himself? Haha, how silly. No—I mean to have Lucius here accompanied by our nation’s best. Surely we can spare a few Peers to seek this quarry? Astolfo’s a good kid. Oh, Lady Angelica would be a good choice as well! The only Evil we can find at the moment is the one under Sir Ferragut’s surveillance, so he would no doubt be of help as well.”
“That is… surprisingly reasonable.”
Ganelon raised his brow and feigned an offended reaction. “You wound me, Roland. I am always reasonable. Yes, with four Peers, I am certain of our victory. Although… maybe we should add one more, just in case.”
“You would go yourself?”
“Heavens no. We already have the best candidate right here.”
Ganelon raised his finger slowly, delighting in the tension, before pointing at Roland.
“... Me?”
Sir Roland couldn’t even muster a response. He stared dumbfounded at Ganelon, waiting for him to claim that it was a joke or simply a ruse, but the man was dead serious.
“Are you really going to be this blatant with your intentions?” Roland eventually replied, his voice deep and gravelly.
Despite his hostility, however, Ganelon merely uttered a small laugh. “Whatever do you mean? It’s only natural to send the strongest Peer to eliminate the strongest Evil. Your skills have rusted long enough in the capital, Roland. You know as well as I that the Lips will not fall easily.”
The way the Franks spoke of their target was quite different from the other Evils. Even Ganelon shivered a bit when referring to the thing, but did they really need five entire Peers just to hunt it down?
Perhaps the most alarming part, however, was that no one moved to disagree.
“Even so, I cannot leave the capital,” Roland said firmly. “I may be ignorant in the ways of political schemes, but I know full well what awaits this nation should I ever be absent.”
“You make it sound as if my pristine leadership would bring us to ruin.”
“Your leadership has and always been solely for yourself. I will not allow your greed to corrupt what good people are left.”
Archbishop Turpin shook his head in disapproval. “Now, now, what did I say, Roland?”
“Turpin, you cannot possibly be blind to his doings—”
“Sir Ganelon has been a faithful servant to God and the nation long before you rose to this position. I understand the two of you have your differences, but insults and curses will do naught but rip us apart. Please, let us conduct ourselves as would the followers of Chivalry.”
Roland barely managed to control his temper before letting out a deeply irritated sigh. “Fine, but the point remains. I am needed here to protect not just the city, but his Holiness as well.”
“What’s there to worry about when I’m here?” Ganelon said as if to goad him. “I’ve watched over the emperor since he was but a babe still in diapers, and I will continue to do so.”
“But—”
Ganelon’s expression suddenly became stern, and he leaned over his seat until his eyes met directly with Roland’s.
“Do you think I would ever cause him harm, Roland?” he asked, and for once Lucius thought him entirely sincere. There was a vast depth in his words, his body, that left no room for question. It was in this moment, and only now, that he deigned to speak the truth. “You know how much he means to me, to us all. I can, haha, tolerate you framing me as some terrible, no-good evil, but this I will not tolerate.”
Roland froze in place. There were many things he wished to say, but in the end all that came out was a quiet acknowledgement.
“I feel it would be inconsiderate of us to not take account of the hero’s opinion,” he said, turning to the gentleman. “Sir Lucius, what are your thoughts? To shoulder this task will pose you great danger. Are you willing to accompany the other Peers in this subjugation?”
Lucius smiled and tipped his hat. “But of course! If my services may be of use to the empire, then I would gladly be of assistance.”
“Even if I were not to join you?”
“Well, I must confess I do not know much of your ability. However, it would certainly be comforting to have a man of your status join me. It’s not required, though. I will succeed either way.”
Roland nodded and waved toward Ganelon. “You heard him, Sir Lucius needs not my aid.”
“How can he be certain if he does not know your capabilities? Come now, my boy, you know I am not one to relent.”
“My answer is no regardless of how it troubles you.”
“Oh really? I see, I see… welp, I suppose there’s naught else for me to say. A shame—I was hoping to reveal this surprise a little later.”
Ganelon stood up, patted his hands with a whimsical hum, and then walked over to a window covered in blinds. He cupped his hands over his ear and made a big show of listening to something outside, something important.
“Do you hear that?” he said, a grin creeping onto his face.
Roland paled and rushed to the window. He pulled back the curtains, only to discover a giant crowd outside cheering and waving at the castle. One would’ve thought that the entire city had gathered here based on the view; and they all held signs wishing Roland the best on his departure.
“What have you done?” he whispered in horror.
Ganelon merely put on a blameless front. “Oh dear, would you look at that? Someone must’ve already spread the news of your leave. Now just who could’ve done that?”
“Truly, the lengths you stoop to…”
“Haha, what’s done is done. Look how excited they are! They must feel so grateful that you would take it upon yourself personally to risk life and limb to slay those dastardly demons. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would you?”
Roland trembled with such rage that Lucius wouldn’t be surprised if he attacked the High Tribunal right this instant; however, he knew it would be for naught. So long as the Archbishop continued to mediate with that ever dull centrality of his, there was nothing he could change.
He had to admit it—Ganelon had thoroughly trapped him.
“You best pack now, my boy,” the man said, standing up and waltzing over to the exit. “I’ll let the others know as well. Come next Idlesday, your grand quest will begin.”
And so he left, tranquil as the wind. Roland could only stand dazed as the realization of Ganelon’s scheme fully settled inside him.
“... Do take care to prepare as well, Sir Lucius,” he said in a quiet mutter. “Dress lightly, for we shall need travel to the sandy dunes of Arabia.”
