Daybreak:Alpha Chapter

Chapter 3 -

Kaede hardly noticed as the maid Marina brought her dinner in. Her focus was still transfixed upon the scroll-like magical map, each hand holding one of its rollers.

Vintersvend's 'World Expedition Map' -- labeled in bright gold letters on top -- was unlike anything she had ever seen. The map stretched no more than a Hyperion pace (76.2cm/30") in width and half as much in height. It displayed twisting rivers and jagged shorelines in an amazing amount of detail, all in vivid watercolors soft to the eyes. Furthermore, when Kaede tried to look closer, she discovered the the map could actually zoom in or out at her will, with lines shifting and colors rolling across the parchment to as fine as 1/10,000 scale. At its maximum zoom it even displayed topography markers and elevation lines.

The map also had a tiny red 'current location' marker. An extra semi-transparent overlay covered all within fifty kilopaces, displaying weather effects like the wintry mix of sleet and rain descending upon the northeast.

Yet despite the impressive display features, the map was woefully incomplete. When zoomed all the way out, Kaede could see the huge masses of cloudy gray that represented terra incognita. Narrow lanes cut across the far oceans of the world, but the interiors of the Hyperion and Eurypha continents were unknown, not to mention most of Asia's equivalent in this world.

Kaede's fingertips also stumbled across a concealed button hidden in the right scroll roller. Pressing it out of curiosity, she could feel waves of ether pulled from her and into the map. The magical power requirements were enormous, straining even the rate that Pascal could resupply her through the familiar bond. But the reason behind it soon proved apparent as the map began redrawing its contents within a fifty kilopace spread.

This is an actual map of Vintersvend's travels! Kaede confirmed at last. The reason why it was so detailed yet incomplete was because the late Admiral had to journey to each region for the map to magically scan and plot the surrounding lands.

"Kaede, stop doing that here."

Her eyes were still dumbfounded as she looked up to meet Pascal.

"It's charting the surrounding lands! And even recognizing the nearby villages!" her wispy voice muttered in awe.

"I figured as much, hence I told you to stop it," Pascal repeated with even more authority, although for a moment Kaede saw hints of a cringe in his brows.

The tremendous ether consumption by the map could not have escaped his notice.

"If you are going to run a scan, do it outside, preferably on the roof," Pascal scolded her "Cartography magic has pitiful efficiency when used indoors. You are going to drain me out with a mapping tool that powerful. Besides, dinner is already here and it is in the way."

Looking to her side, Kaede finally noticed the maid Marina giving her an impatient glare.

"Sorry," she rushed to close the map scroll before putting it away in the messenger bag slung behind her chair. With the table space before her no longer blocked, Marina was at last able to place her meal down.

How the mouthwatering waft of the Sauerbraten could escape her notice was an even bigger mystery.

Kaede also didn't miss the disapproving look from Majordomo Karsten. But then, her mere existence at this table seems to offend him in some way -- possibly because she was dining with a Landgrave and a Princess as though they were equals.

Although Kaede had to admit that she did feel rather out of place. Despite the Keep's austere external appearance, Pascal's father had the public areas inside built and decorated with no expenses spared. The opulent dining room exemplified this with its huge crystal chandeliers and life-sized paintings. It was fit to host even state banquets, which it probably did from time to time when the King visited, or the Emperor, or even both.

Maybe after all the Dukes and Princesses and Kings he had waited, serving me food is beneath him, she mulled.

It wasn't uncommon for those who serve the wealthy and powerful to considered themselves a station above peasants who lived outside such grace, which applied just as much for a modern plutocracy as it did for the aristocratic 'Ancien Régime'.

It was as if pride itself was contagious.

With a quiet sigh, Kaede closed her eyes to take a deep breath, relaxing in the aroma of the fine cuisine.

After over two weeks of 'beef jerky stew' and other bland army foods, Kaede was more than happy to leap back into the bosoms of civilization... even if it meant a return to social stratification.

"I have missed this so much," Pascal reflected her own thoughts from the head of the table as he breathed in the smell of his cheesy beer soup.

"Why couldn't you just manage your own food during the campaign?" Sylviane asked from her seat across the table from Kaede.

"The army's policy is no special treatment with anything concerning logistics," Pascal explained. "We have too many nobles in the military. If everyone demands this and that of their own, even the most efficient supply train would be burdened down. So to remove any potential conflicts, the founding King Ferdinand wrote it into the Writ of Universal Conscription that everyone receives the same bland rations in the field; with priorities based on military rather than social rank if supplies fall short of needs."

"I think that was wise of him. After all, logistics is not only the backbone but also the ball and chain of warfare," Kaede appraised, modifying yet another famous quote down for her own needs.

Her Russian half was particularly educated in this. Popular opinion might think that the infamous Russian winter was the destroyer of conquering armies. But in truth, both Napoleon and Hitler's invasion failed because their logistical preparations were woefully inadequate for such extensive campaigning. By the time either reached Moscow, their men were already lacking in food, ammunition, shelter, and fuel. Without adequate warmth and nourishment, any harsh blizzard would take its toll, let alone a Russian one.

Hence why the only outsiders to succeed in an invasion of Russia... were the Mongols.

With her napkin set in place, Kaede prepared herself to dig in. Her Sauerbraten beef roast was flavored with red wine and raisins in Rheinischer style. She also had potato dumplings, asparagus with Hollandaise sauce, and as always -- more sausages, even as a side.

I swear Weichsel has a wiener obsession, she commented to herself. Her fork raised and ready.

"Not so fast," the Princess stared with disapproval. "I don't know how your world's God prefer it. But here in Hyperion, prayers first."

Kaede put her utensils down again with a scowl. At times like these, she had the urge to ask for a colander as 'proper religious headwear' to voice her silent protest.

But then, she doubted the Almighty -- whatever form he or she might take -- would approve of her being disrespectful of others practicing their own faiths. After all, there was no holy text that claims 'thou shalt be an intolerant cur'; not even the Abrahamic ones, despite the popular notions of its more zealous believers.

...

"Are you actually religious at all?" Sylviane asked as her fingers gracefully cut her meat into slivers, before offering one to the phoenix perched atop the back of the adjacent chair. "I don't think I've ever seen you pray on your own accord."

"The Flying Spaghetti Monster encourages us to express our God-given free will and see to the health of our conscience, unchained from the yoke of any unnecessary religious indoctrination."

Kaede completely made that up. She didn't read any of the supposed 'holy texts' from the Flying Spaghetti Monster. But at this point, she was far too deep into the joke to back out of it.

Pascal would find out some day... when she was in the mood to explain it all.

"I still find it hard to believe that God could be named with such wording, even by a religion as heathen as yours," the man himself reminded her of why she didn't bother to explain, before replenishing his own mouth with alcoholic foods.

"Maybe there's a fault with the translation magic," Kaede shrugged back.

That evoked an inward frown from Pascal as he considered his own work. But the knowing gaze that stared back from Sylviane meant that the Princess wasn't deceived for one second.

I need to be careful around her, Kaede warned herself. Career royals are far too good at reading people.

But at least this time, Sylviane dropped the topic without a word. Instead, she turned towards her fiancé:

"You're also not used to dealing with weird religions. After that blasphemy I once heard from an Albigese priestess, I'm sure people -- even the sane ones -- are capable of chalking up just about anything."

"Albigese?"

Kaede had stumbled across the word several times in her readings. But as Weichsel banned all unsanctioned religious material, she didn't have a clue of what that word meant other than being synonymous for heretic.

"They're an established Trinitian Heresy in the Kingdom of Garona," the Princess explained without even an attempt at holding back her derisive tone. "They believe that the Old Testament and everything written within, including the creation of the world, was the work of the Devil."

"Crazy fools," Pascal jumped in on the mockery himself, before adding a little fairness:

"Although you have to admit, the Holy Father did change quite a bit between the Old and New Testaments. He was so vengeful and full of wrath in the older tales -- the very antithesis of our merciful Savior."

"Which father doesn't change for the better, when they experience the raising of their own child?" Sylviane replied with ease. "Though I can see why the Albigese might interpret it so, given how the old Holy Father might clash with many of Hyperion's teachings about virtue and sin. Hypocrisy is always seen as the work of the Devil, after all."

Which explains why the Church is full of it, Kaede muttered in the safety of her own mind.

"But the Albigese also believe that we're all actually angels cursed by the Devil, doomed to reincarnate in our sinful bodies instead of facing judgment at the end of our lives -- now that's too much to swallow, even for me," she finished before delivering another sliver of beef for chewing.

"I'm surprised you have to deal with them at all," Kaede added with her own food paused in midair. "Isn't Rhin-Lotharingie a Trinitian realm?"

"Only predominantly," the Princess sighed, allowing some buried exasperation to resurface. "I wish it was wholly Trinitian. It would make my job much easier."

"The Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie was born from a coalition of rebellious forces who rose up against the Holy Imperium's attempt to enforce Trinitian conversion," Pascal noted as he stirred his thickening soup. "When an empire begins like that, its laws and rulers must learn to accept religious differences from the very start."

"Quite. Religious Autonomy is one of the few common laws within the Empire -- the regional lords are allowed to choose their own religious leanings," the Princess clarified. "For example, there are several duchies within the Kingdom of Gleann Mòr that still openly worship the Northmen's pagan gods, not to mention the druidic minorities in the Kingdom of Ceredigion."

"Practicality over piety then," Kaede noted as she stabbed a sausage. "No wonder why the Pope dislikes your country."

As she brought her fork up and bit into the veal, Pascal froze in his seat. His turquoise eyes focused upon her with an incredulous stare.

"Kaede -- what, are you doing?"

"Eating a sausage," she answered, rather bewildered at the sudden shift in behavior.

I guess I forgot to cut it first. But still...

There was no reason to stare at her as though she spontaneously turned into an octopus, except it only grew worse when she brought her fork up for another bite.

Even Sylviane was staring at her now, although more annoyed than astonished. Meanwhile the Majordomo Karsten -- who had been pouring some wine for the Princess -- looked a mix between flabbergasted and horrified.

"That look is kind of... obscene."

Without actually biting down, Kaede pulled the meat from her lips and examined it.

"It's a sausage."

"Way too many inappropriate undertones, apart from being just plain rude," Pascal chided.

What, because I have a sausage sticking out of my mouth?

"I used to do this all the time," she defended herself, even as the wiener was set back down to the plate for knifing.

"Maybe as a man. Never do that as a girl in public,"

Pascal ordered in that stern, final voice of his, to which Kaede put her hands down as she heaved a heavy sigh.

Girls have way too many things they have to watch appearances for.

----- * * * -----

Kaede was rubbing her stomach as she walked around the halls after dinner. It was yet another downside of becoming a girl, and a petite one at that. She could no longer stuff down entire plates when facing a scrumptious meal. In fact, she couldn't even finish all of the modest servings brought before her. With nobles being nobles, she could hardly ask for leftovers to be saved to avoid wasting delicious food -- which was plain sinful in her book.

First world problems, she chided herself.

There were probably people starving somewhere in Hyperion who wish they could feel nourished with less food, let alone the masterful cooking she just consumed. Nevertheless, her normally flat stomach did sport a small and uncomfortable bulge tonight. Hence Kaede strode about the Keep's hallways, hoping to hasten digestion before turning in for the night.

I probably should watch my food intake though.

The female metabolism was considerably lower than that of males by nature. Combined with her smaller stature, lower muscle mass, and a lack of aerobic exercise routine, it was extremely easy for her to overeat compared to what her body was capable of burning off.

...The last thing she needed from Pascal was a patronizing lecture on her 'getting fat'.

"Evening," Kaede raised her hand in greeting as she passed two maids walking the opposite way.

She received two curtsies and faked smiles in return, but not a single opportunity for friendly conversation.

Nor did her keen hearing miss the whispering that began as soon as she was out of conventional earshot:

"Can you believe the little harlot got a Knight's Cross?"

"Maybe she has her redeeming traits after all," said the other maid, leading Kaede to hope that she might finally gain a bit of acceptance.

"Oh she's brave all right. She has to be to sleep with a Princess' fiancé. I bet you that when the His Grace gets married, her head will be the first to roll..."

Kaede sighed again as she stepped up her pace, hoping for them to leave her actual earshot as soon as possible.

Events in real life always proved wishful thinking wrong in the most unpleasant way.

The problem was: part of her was afraid of exactly what they said. Perhaps the Princess really was just tolerating her for the moment, and would seek to remove her as soon as they tied the knot in the eyes of God. Nothing brought cruelty out like jealousy; and in a world like this, facing the guillotine might even be a 'good' end compared to, say, being vanished off onto the black market as a slave.

No, no, Kaede closed her eyes and shook her head. I can't think the worst of people. It's neither fair nor right.

Besides... a smile prodded her lips as she thought back to the day's events, the glow in her cheeks returning as she remembered how the Princess carried her through the town.

She is trying to be nice.

Kaede stopped by a window at the edge of the hallway's turn. Exerting her meager strength, she managed to open it to the icy winds outside. The cold air billowing in from the lake stung her cheeks. But at the same time, a moment of refreshing chill while listening to relaxing waves of Cross Lake washing ashore was exactly what she needed to calm her conflicting thoughts.

Thankfully for her small shoulders and even smaller hands, her self-heating garments continued to keep her body at a soothing warmth.

Kaede wasn't sure how long she stared absentmindedly into the pitch darkness of the cloud-covered lake. But by the time she began to close the windows, she heard a retching noise coming from the down the hallway, faint even to her familiar-enhanced senses.

She silently crept down the corridor, trying to keep her steps as silent as possible. By the time she reached another turn in the hallway, she heard the heavy steps of someone emerging from a nearby room.

A quick peek around the corner left her eyes astounded. It was the Princess, her sickly countenance as white as paper, while Lady Mari lead her out of the doorway.

"Ughhh... I hate this feeling," Kaede heard a groan in Sylviane's voice.

"Perhaps if Your Highness stopped doing it," the lady's maid replied in her ever composure.

"That's easy for you to say. I wasn't born with good metabolism you know, and I certainly don't need to hear anyone else mocking me for my appearance, ever... least of all Pascal."

Kaede was a hundred percent certain that she shouldn't be here. She definitely shouldn't be hearing this. But at this point, any movement from her was more likely to give her presence away.

"I don't think His Grace would deride you about something so shallow," Mari spoke again. "He has never said anything ill about your looks. Quite the opposite, from what you have told me."

"Maybe not, but I don't want to be an embarrassment for him to stand next to either..."

Sylviane then paused to take a few deep breathes.

"Just help me back to my room, then get me something to drown this wretched taste out of my mouth,"

Neither said anything after that, and the two pairs of feet began moving down the hallway in the other direction.

Only when Kaede heard their footsteps traverse far down the hall did she let go of the breath that she unconsciously held. Peeking across the corner one more time, she confirmed they were gone before thinking to herself:

She threw up. Intentionally. And not for the first time.

The Princess is bulimic?

Are you kidding me!?

Sylviane's appearance might not be exceptional, but she did have that trim figure that girls in well-fed societies sought as the epitome of beauty.

Kaede certainly understood why people turned to such ends. After all, many girls in Japan were borderline if not outright anorexic, pressured by the demands of society and gender expectations. But for Sylviane? Not touching her food was hardly an option. After all, she attends a lot of banquets and feasts with men -- who are blessed with high metabolism in their youth and tend to run loose with weight as they aged.

But still... does Pascal know about this?

Just as she thought his name, Pascal's telepathy homed in through their bond:

"You just saw it, didn't you?"

"Were you using my senses without permission again?" Kaede began to fume.

"A bit. Sorry," he apologized immediately. "You had sent quite a shock across the empathic link. I had thought you might have been in danger from something."

When he puts it like that, Kaede couldn't even get angry.

"You're forgiven then. More importantly, how long have you known about this?"

"Since her third visit to Nordkreuz -- when she was twelve, I think?" Pascal pondered. "She was really sensitive about her looks growing up."

"I can imagine!" Kaede almost said out loud. "So she's been doing this for at least seven, eight years already? It's a really unhealthy habit!"

"I think she already knows that. But hey, I am not going to talk to a girl with a complex over appearances about her eating or dieting habits. People may think me insensitive, but I am far from downright stupid."

"Besides..." Pascal continued on. "She has enough pressure on her without me nitpicking her bad habits. None of us are perfect, after all."

"Far from it," Kaede agreed.

To administer an Empire as fragmented and complicated as Rhin-Lotharingie... it really was too much of a task for a girl fresh out of her teens to handle. Under the circumstances, Sylviane was already taking far more upon her thin shoulders than anyone has the right to ask of her.

Although... Kaede's mind took a sharp turn as her tired subconscious grappled for something less exhausting to think about:

"Does that mean you won't complain if I put on a little weight either?"

Except Pascal held no such leniency towards her:

"Certainly not! If you get fat, I am dragging you away from your books and putting you through the reins myself!"

Talk about double standards. So unfair!