Recovering her composure, Allerdale realized her momentary distraction had been deeply rude, leaving the trio standing awkwardly in the grand entryway. Anyone else with a temper might have snapped at her.
"My sincerest apologies. I lost myself in thought for a moment!" Allerdale bowed deeply in apology, executing the gesture with a practiced grace that made Jeanne wonder just how many times this noblewoman had bowed to demanding guests. "This is the entrance to the Cumberland ancestral estate, where the conference with the Grand Dukes will take place. Please, step inside..."
Allerdale led the way, stepping forward just as an elderly butler came hurrying down the wide corridor to open the inner heavy doors.
Judging by his winded breath, he had been frantically tending to other duties across the sprawling estate before rushing over. The vast mansion felt eerily empty—it was clear that either House Cumberland suffered a dire shortage of staff, or Allerdale had dismissed her servants beforehand to avoid unexpected complications.
"Please forgive our lack of hospitality," Allerdale cut in before the butler could speak, seamlessly taking over his duties to guide the guests through the foyer. "Recent events have thrown us off balance, but the necessary arrangements are complete. Welcome to the House of Cumberland. Allow me to show you through the castle."
They passed through corridors lined with architecture that felt somewhat weathered yet meticulously kept. House Cumberland was clearly an ancient lineage; the stone walls and timber archways easily predated the last few decades.
Talulah, Jeanne, and Fafnir took in the sights with casual interest. Talulah had read of House Cumberland—the noble line famed across Victoria as "Ever-Pure," eternally loyal to the throne. But to her, such titles held little weight.
Setting aside the fact that "loyalty to the crown" historically meant devotion to the Aslan line, Talulah had zero intention of sitting on that throne, nor did she care to receive their fealty.
She could see the unspoken dilemma in Allerdale's eyes: if Talulah took the crown, would the "Ever-Pure Cumberland" yield to a new master? Either way, that famed purity was crumbling into a tragic farce.
The estate felt hollow. On the high stone walls, empty patches of unfaded wallpaper and vacant pedestals showed where grand portraits and priceless antiques had once hung or stood.
The two women realized at once how House Cumberland had managed to maintain this sprawling estate after the late Aslan King was hanged—by steadily selling off their family treasures piece by piece.
Looking at the few remaining items, Jeanne and Talulah tried to estimate their value, but quickly gave up. Neither possessed an eye for fine antiquities. Jeanne could at best rely on divine Revelation to guess a rough price, while Talulah could only judge that they looked vaguely expensive.
"What is that...?"
On the second floor landing, Jeanne paused before a massive shape draped in heavy cloth, resting directly beneath the carved Cumberland family crest.
It was a suit of steam armor—a weathered, ancient relic. They hadn't expected to find military-grade armor resting inside a private noble residence.
By law, every suit of steam armor belonged strictly to the Victorian crown, and not even a decorated Steam Knight held the right to house one as personal property. Yet this suit bore the crest of House Cumberland etched deep into its chest plate.
"That armor belonged to our progenitor—the first Steam Knight of the Cumberland line," Allerdale said softly, her gaze flinching away as if touching hot iron. She quickened her pace, guiding them down the hall. "She proved the Cumberland name on the field of battle, and the late King granted our family the honor of keeping her armor."
She led them toward a concealed study at the end of the corridor. Allerdale remembered being a young girl, watching her father and the late King hold quiet, whispered discussions inside this very room. She had run through these halls trying to find her father, never learning what was said behind those closed doors.
And today, that same hidden room would host a conversation between a woman who held the bloodline to rule Victoria and the most powerful Grand Dukes in the realm. In years to come, this silent room might be etched into the history books of the empire.
A bitter smile touched Allerdale's lips, but she forced a polite composure as she gestured for them to step inside.
She stood outside the threshold. Even young Fafnir possessed the standing to enter, while Allerdale—the master of the house—could only wait silently in the corridor for the outcome.
Stepping into the hidden study, Jeanne, Talulah, and Fafnir found a line of communications terminals, each manned by a representative.
These representatives were the eyes and ears of the Grand Dukes. None rose to greet the visitors as they entered, simply observing the trio with sharp, calculating eyes.
Their gazes lingered notably long on Fafnir. To anyone lacking context, the small dragon sitting so naturally beside Talulah looked strikingly like a child bearing her direct bloodline.
Understanding glances flickered among the representatives. Talulah's face remained entirely impassive, though internally she was contemplating whether to roast Jeanne for dinner over this endless misunderstanding.
"Welcome... descendant of Artorius," a faint, raspy voice echoed through one of the main terminals. The speaker sounded frail, as if his continued existence on Terra beyond tomorrow was a matter of doubt.
With the Grand Duke speaking first, the representatives finally offered formal, seated bows to Talulah. Looking across the faces in the room, Jeanne spotted a familiar figure among them.
What was that green Feline's name again... Harmony or something? She was sitting before one of the terminals, serving as the official envoy for her noble master.
Harmonie acted as if she had never met Jeanne or Talulah before, offering a polite, practiced smile before settling back into her seat like a silent observer.
These representatives existed solely to read the Draco's reactions, providing their masters with the intel needed to decide their next move.
"I didn't expect my return to bring so many grand figures together just to catch a glimpse of me," Talulah spoke, her voice laced with cold sarcasm. "I can't help but wonder if my father received this much attention when he left this city."
Her sharp opening made the representatives shift uncomfortably in their seats. The Draco heir was clearly not here to play nice.
Some worried that if negotiations broke down, a single flare of her Arts might reduce them all to ash before their masters could intervene.
"There is no need to dredge up the past," Duke of Goododdin's frail voice rasped from the terminal. "I assume you did not return to Londinium merely to settle old scores. We should look to the future."
The sentiment was shared by every noble present; after all, not a single faction in Victoria had clean hands regarding the events of that era.
"And why should the past be brushed aside so easily?" Talulah retorted, taking a seat with measured composure. "If past atrocities are left unaddressed, on what foundation are we supposed to build this 'future'?"
Jeanne watched from the side, glancing between Talulah and Fafnir, wondering what wild rumor the nobles would spin next.
What followed was a sharp, unrelenting exchange between Talulah and the ten Grand Dukes. They traded barbs over past history, with Talulah pressing them so aggressively that it appeared as though she intended to purge the old nobility before taking the throne.
The tense debate stretched on, neither side yielding an inch, until the room fell into a heavy, suffocating deadlock.
"This bickering yields nothing," Duke Wellington's deep, aged voice finally cut through the silence from his terminal. "State your true purpose. Why have you come to Londinium?"