NOVEL NEXT Chapter 89: Meeting The Han Family
If Mikayla didn't know any better, she would have thought that the Han Estate was the Emperor of Guili's royal palace.
The gatehouse was a building unto itself, three storeys tall and stained a tasteful mix of bronze and green. Once the portcullis had been raised - and Mikayla had enjoyed a history nerd fangirl moment about seeing a real live portcullis in action - they set off down a mile-long driveway, framed on both sides by an array of exquisitely trimmed hedges and topiary. In the distance, Mikayla could see more large buildings forming a ring around the edges of the property, presumably forming a complete circle.
"Wow," Mikayla couldn't help but comment, "I knew you were rich, but, wow,"
"My family have enjoyed many privileges as a result of my birth. Wealth is practically obligatory," Nya explained with nothing but pride in her voice. "Now, I know that we have discussed all this already, but please be very careful about how you present yourself when interacting with my parents. Be respectful, be courteous, be deferential -"
"I get it. Don't worry," Mikayla patted her shoulder. "I've watched plenty of historical fiction about stuffy nobility. I've dealt with teachers who are too full of themselves. I'm sure I can manage,"
"Stuffy?" Nya parroted, sounding like she wasn't sure whether or not to be hurt.
"Eh, sorry. I'm from Australia. Back home, being overly respectful and courteous gets you laughed at. I think I'm adjusting pretty well!"
Mikayla didn't see the face Nya pulled in response to that assertion.
The main building loomed over them, three floors of stately architecture encrusted with balconies and pagodas. A circular window glared down at them from above the main doors like a glowing eye, emblazoned with the word 'SUPERIORITY'.
Mikayla squinted at the goofy-looking window suspiciously, then pulled her phone out and took a picture of it to see if that would let her see what it looked like without the System's translation. Sure enough, in reality it was an ornate and symmetrical Asian-looking glyph that presumably meant 'superiority'.
"Put that away," Nya hissed even as she followed her gaze. "I see you noticed my old room,"
Mikayla winced. "You
slept
with that looming over you all the time?"
"Of course. It was a constant reminder of my duty,"
Every time Mikayla thought she had a handle on how messed up Nya was, she unearthed some new issue to work away at.
They hesitated on the front step, and Mikayla made to knock on the door, but Nya caught her arm. "Wait. They will admit us at their leave. Demanding entry is impolite,"
". . really?" Mikayla muttered, schooling her features and resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She looked down, and discovered that the front landing was emblazoned with a meticulously designed artwork made of coloured rocks, sealed and smoothed into the floor underfoot.
It depicted what was obviously Yevgenia herself, clad in Armour and wielding weapons made of iridescent stones that quite accurately captured the hardlight of a Core projection. She was doing battle against a massive, crocodile-like creature with lava flowing from its mouth and claws.
Forgetting her irritation, she let out an appreciative coo. "Oh wow. Is this a fresco? It's gorgeous. Who made this? Can we get a plaque? Oh, wait, Identify,"
[ROCK]
Mikayla rolled her eyes at the basic Identify - nigh useless unless you'd forgotten someone's name - and went to pull out her phone again, only for Nya to slap her hand. "Be dignified. You can ask my parents about it properly over dinner. That's a safe enough topic of conversation,"
"Sheesh, fine,"
"
Sheeshing
is also unacceptable!" Nya hissed.
Their whispers were cut off as the doors cracked open. A pair of butlers scurried out of sight as they opened the doors, and Mikayla recognised Ten on the left side. She almost greeted him, but second-guessed herself. The nobles would probably feel slighted if she paid more attention to a servant than the two people standing in the centre of the hallway. She forced herself to focus her attention on a pair of yaoguai that could only be Nya's parents.
Duke Han was tall and pot-bellied, with a wispy and well-groomed silver beard that clashed with his rich blue skin. He was dressed in elegant black robes that hung to his feet, with purple flowers embroidered into them. Flinty black eyes regarded her imperiously.
Duchess Han, though, looked a lot like Nya, but not exactly. Her pink skin was the wrong shade, her cheekbones more squashed, and - damningly - she was too tall and lanky. She was another Yevgenia clone, an imperfect one, yet the first Mikayla had seen who had reached middle age. "Ah, young Aiadon, we meet at last,"
She'd mispronounced Mikayla's surname, calling her 'aye-a-don' rather than the correct 'ei-ahh-don'.
". . Please, there's no need to stand on formalities, call me Mikayla," she offered with her best curtsy. "I am honoured to finally make the acquaintance of the Noble Duke and Duchess Han. Thank you for inviting me to your esteemed dwelling,"
"Do come in," Duke Han cordially invited. In perfect lockstep, they span and began to march back into the house. Nya followed robotically, and Mikayla did her best to keep up.
The entrance hall was ostentatiously decorated with fine art, ornamental vases, sculptures and - to Mikayla's amazement - several actual, forged-from-metal weapons.
"Come. Dinner has been prepared,"
And so Mikayla found herself seated at a large and ostentatious banquet table. Despite easily seating thirty, she, Nya and Nya's parents were the only ones there; Duke and Duchess Han sat together at the head of the table, with Mikayla and Nya facing each other on either side. Most of the table went unused.
"I'm really impressed by your home," Mikayla started conversation as a group of maids delivered their entree, several small platters of fish. "I haven't seen so many non-Core weapons since coming to this world," Come to think of it, the only other real weapon she knew of was Kaizen's katana. She still didn't have an answer as to what that was all about, but that was because Kaizen was . . Kaizen.
"They are antiquities, dating back to before the Kaiju Collapse. Some of them were even recovered from the battle against the First Monster King," Duke Han sounded quite proud of that fact.
Mikayla thought back to some of the preparations she'd had from both Politics class and Nya's own attempts to make sure she could navigate Guili noble society. In the City of Roses, it had become customary for men to focus on politics and business while women were the protectors of the household. It seemed like Duke Han would be easier to talk to than his wife. "Ooh, I'd love to hear more. Oh, and that wonderful mosaic outside on the porch, too, tell me all about that!"
Duke Han's eyes lit up, but before he could do more than draw breath his wife snapped, "That won't be necessary,"
"Ah," Mikayla stifled a sigh, reminding herself to be polite. "As you wish,"
"We can save that discussion for later," Duke Han concurred.
"How have you been finding Cloudscraper? Is it different to what you are accustomed to?" Duchess Han inquired, her eyes raking up and down Mikayla.
Mikayla stifled the urge to squirm. She'd never worn anything quite as fancy as the tailored gown that Nya had stuffed her into, and couldn't help but feel like it was only highlighting how plain she looked. Her fingers twitched, and she resisted the urge to fiddle with her Core Gauntlet or summon the Black Knight - when had wearing mechanised magic armour started to feel like an emotional crutch?
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"In some ways, yes, but in others it's surprisingly familiar. Not all that different to my studies back at home, really," Mikayla answered the question, careful to keep her tone measured.
Duchess Han's face could have been carved from granite for all that she reacted to this. "And how have you found being partnered with Yevgenia?"
"She's been doing a lot to help me get settled in. I'm really grateful to Ny-yevgenia," Mikayla hastily corrected herself.
Duchess Han quirked an eyebrow, her lips twisting. "What is 'Ne-Yevgenia'?"
Nya's eyes betrayed a hint of panic.
Mikayla scrambled, and a flash of inspiration hit her from watching subbed anime. "Apologies, ma'am. It is a sort of vocal tic from my original language. Prefixing a person's name with 'ne' is a sign of affection. There are other, similar phrases, I've been trying to train myself out of using them but I suppose I'm simply too comfortable in your daughter's presence. For example, if you like, I could address you as Han-sama? That's an honorific that implies a person is a respected elder," She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Nailed it.
Duchess Han looked mollified. "I appreciate the offer, but that shall be unnecessary,"
Mikayla kept her features carefully schooled even as she did a mental fist-pump.
Her head swivelled towards Nya. "You have been wasting time and energy on 'helping Aye-adon get settled in'? Why?"
For a split second, Nya flinched, but then a mask of utter detachment snapped into place, as rigid and unsettling as the demonic war mask of Moonlight Rose. "I have been charged with a certain duty of care in my role as Mikayla's tutor. Even if tending to her is objectively a poor use of my time, it would reflect badly on me and my reputation to neglect that duty,"
Her mother considered that, then curtly nodded. Her chin swivelled back towards Mikayla. "I would like to hear more about the world that you originate from,"
"Oh, sure. Is there anything in particular you would like to know?" Mikayla casually offered, trying not to show how uncomfortable that little exchange had made her.
Pencil-thin eyebrows arched up. "How far back does your military tradition go?"
Now. Was it a red flag that this was the first thing Duchess Hans thought to ask about? Yes, kind of. But was Mikayla a massive history nerd who had forgotten more trivia about historical conflicts than most people ever learned? Also yes.
"Ooh, great question! I should preface this by saying that we only invented written languages about five thousand years ago, so we don't have much in the way of details about people fighting long before that time. We're pretty sure the history of warfare dates back approximately fifteen thousand years, but like most things it was the Mesopotamians who wrote down the first war," Mikayla hesitated. "Though, actually, knowing Ny-Yevgenia, you're probably more interested in legendary
heroes
, in which case we have to look at King Gilgamesh of Uruk and his mortal enemy turned best friend, Enkidu,"
Duchess Han held up a hand, and Mikayla trailed off. "I was hoping to hear about something more recent than five thousand years ago,"
"Oh, sure," She hummed for a second. "One of my all-time favourite heroes is King Leonidas the First of Sparta, who with only three hundred elite men held off the vastly stronger army of -"
"When was this?"
"Twenty-five hundred years ago,"
Duchess Han waved her hand. "More recent,"
"Oh. Okay. How about Joan of Arc? She was a pivotal figure in the Hundred Years War," An irritated eyebrow went up, and before she could even be asked, Mikayla added, "This was seven hundred years ago,"
"How about we try
within living memory,"
Duchess Han delicately speared a piece of meat and bit down on it. Her neck and jaw muscles looked tighter than they had a minute ago.
"Oh. Well, that's not as interesting," Mikayla hedged. She didn't know much about
recent
history. It was all so boring compared to the ancient world. Just so many guns and tanks and bombs. And drones, most recently. No legendary figures, at least none that she could name off the top of her head. Nothing that the Hans would appreciate, nothing like Yevgenia. Her brow furrowed as she considered that - but then a thought struck her.
Duchess Han had absolutely no way of knowing the difference between the reality and fiction of Earth.
"Is eighty years ago still too distant?"
"I'll allow it,"
"Alright. In that case I'll tell you about Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America,"
By the time she'd finished explaining as much as she could remember about the plot of
The First Avenger
, Duchess Han looked less disapproving than she had before. Nya, though, had been paying rapt attention. "So that is why you decided to use a shield!"
Mikayla wanting to wield a shield had absolutely nothing to do with Captain America and everything to do with wanting the option to put a big slab of solid material between herself and the Kaiju of the week. "Yes, exactly," she lied. "He was a major inspiration to both my parents' generation and mine,"
"I had never thought to ask about the heroes of your culture that inspired you. Do tell us more!" Mikayla had rarely seen Nya so animated.
"That shall not be necessary," Duchess Han asserted. "I think we have the picture,"
"But I didn't even mention Indiana Jones yet,"
"Mother, what is the harm in permitting Mikayla to share more stories of her world's heroes?" Nya questioned.
"I was only asking so as to ascertain the quality of young Aye-adon's pedigree. There is no actual
value
in the stories of any heroes other than the Rosebush Huntress,"
Mikayla couldn't resist a dig. "Does that also apply to the other three of the Four Heroes?"
"For the purposes of Yevgenia living up to her potential as the Reborn Rose, yes,"
"But, mother," Nya hesitantly spoke up, "While naturally I do not disagree with the fact that there is no reason for me to learn from the examples of heroes other than the Rosebush Huntress, surely it would behoove me to at least be aware of the styles that other warriors whom I might fight alongside - or against! - such that I can either accomodate their needs or understand their weaknesses?"
"Do not be foolish. You have been following The Template, so there is no need for you to consider the needs of others. It is their responsibility to adapt to you, and you should never so much as consider demeaning yourself and The Template by allowing the influence of lesser heroes to colour your path. And do not insult the legacy that you have inherited by asserting that you might need to study an enemy's weaknesses, either. If you cannot defeat any enemy by using the Techniques of the Rosebush Huntress, then you are not putting in enough effort,"
Nya shrunk back under her mother's leer. "I understand, mother. You are correct, of course,"
Mikayla's lips tightened. So this was the kind of home environment that had shaped her roommate.
She'd promised herself that coming to Raibalie would be a fresh start. That she wouldn't be a wallflower, or a doormat, anymore. Was she really willing to sit back and watch this trainwreck in motion?
. . No. No, she wasn't.