The Weight of Legacy

Matilda had only ever visited Beuzaheim a handful of times, all under the watchful eye of her mother. They'd practiced how she was supposed to act in public for so long, each time, that even being cooped up studying from boring books had become much more fun in comparison.

She'd never come here on her own—strictly speaking, she still hadn't, but Theo was a stranger to her. He was wearing a simple shirt with a scarf that really reminded her of the ones Alaric owned, but it was probably a coincidence. Either way, it seemed strange when combined with dress pants, of much better make—Mother would not have deemed this choice of clothes presentable.

Every step was one she took with trepidation. Was no one going to stop them? Even if Theo was around Alaric's age, that would still make him nineteen at most, and only adults were supposed to walk alone around here. Her mother had impressed upon her, many times, that this was why Matilda couldn't go out on her own.

Theo didn't seem to care, though.

"What if we get caught?" Matilda asked, her voice as low as she could make it. It might look bad, she knew, if she showed she was afraid, but she couldn't keep it from showing as he spoke.

"Get caught?" Theo raised an eyebrow. Though he'd made the effort to face her as he spoke, he didn't stop walking, glancing at the signs on nearby buildings. "We aren't doing anything wrong."

Matilda grit her teeth, elaborating with a hushed shout. "Yes! Yes, we are. We're outside without any adults. If we get caught—"

"Girl, you are concerning me."

For someone who was supposed to be from Beuzaheim, Theo was spending a lot of time examining their surroundings. If Matilda hadn't heard this was his hometown, she might have thought he was lost. But since she knew that, she could identify it for what it was—like her, he must have been paying attention, making sure no one noticed them. Even if he denied it.

"You should be concerned," Matilda gave him a pointed glance. "We'd be in a lot of trouble."

"Literally no one cares—that's what so great about isolated places. But even if we were elsewhere… there's no one out to get you. You aren't going to get in trouble for going outside."

"Of course not!" Matilda was starting to get annoyed, that frustration now overwhelming her fear. Why was he so dense? "The problem is we're outside without any adults. We aren't supposed to do that!"

Theo just gave her a glance, looking somewhere between distraught and bewildered. "I know that sometimes, parents can speak in absolutes to their children. Probably. Devils, I'm not good at dealing with children. Putting one foot outside the door without supervision isn't going to make your life fall apart, though basic safety is probably harder to explain to little kids. I… I think I understand what Alaric meant."

"What?" Matilda asked. She wasn't sure how she felt about the implication that Alaric talked to this guy about their family—or worse yet, about her!

"That you're all somehow both the least educated and the most educated, depending on the context one is looking at," Theo said after a moment. She knew how to read faces well enough to guess he'd been debating whether to answer. "I'd say your mother is sheltering you, but wave take me, that kind of mindset is ridiculous. She needs to get a grip."

"You dare!" Matilda halted her stride, trying her best to skid to a start by digging in her heels. Though he'd been holding her hand, Theo made no effort to pull her forward. "My mother used to be a noblewoman! You can't just say things like that about her!"

Theo blinked incredulously. A moment later, he started cackling—somewhat maniacally.

Matilda was starting to regret accepting her little sister's help. Not only had she ended up hurting her shoulder, but in the process of getting someone to heal her, she was having to deal with some boy with no proper manners or respect.

"You are adorable."

Matilda wished she had something to hit him with—if she was going to be forced to disobey her mother's rules, she might as well do so to her own benefit. Unfortunately for her, one of her arms was limp on her side, weakened by the pain that radiated from her shoulder, and Theo hadn't let go of the other one. "I will need to have words with my brother about the company he keeps."

"Good luck with that," Theo had the gall to roll his eyes at her. Now, he did pull. "Your brothers conscripted me into taking you to a doctor, though, so you will have to postpone that until we get back."

With an unladylike grumble, Matilda did as he asked, following him as they resumed their search for a doctor. By now, she was starting to secondguess her conclusions—maybe Theo was lost.

Matilda almost cried. "If someone sees me without Mother, we'd both lose so much face… Even if I grow up with good Skills, what if someone recognizes me? It would be so embarrassing."

Theo kept giving her strange looks, as if he couldn't believe she was serious. Why wouldn't she be? Maybe he didn't have someone like Mother guiding him, so he didn't recognize the value of appearances? Reputation was everything, as her mother would say. If anyone knew about any negative experiences from your past—even if it was something as seemingly trivial as getting lost around town—they would use it against you to make the whole family lose face!

"You. Have. Issues."

That was all Theo said as he opened an unlabeled door to look inside. "Greetings!" he called out. It seemed he'd finally found someone actually manning a shop at this hour. "I'm told there's a doctor nearby?"

"Ah, that would be Old Jericho," a gruff voice said from within. It sounded uneducated. "He's gone on an errand for those weird people in the outskirts, but he said he'd be back before The Harvest. Want to leave a message for him?"

"I appreciate the offer, but it'd be of no use—my friend's little sister got hurt while playing, and I'm trying to find someone to give her a lookover."

"I see. Hm," the voice replied. Matilda wasn't about to ruin her posture just to see who it belonged to. "There's this lady in town, Luitgarde. She lives two streets back—turn left on the tree with the blue vines then walk until you see the yellow house, you'll know it when you see it. She's a nutter, but I know she has <Body> Skills that can handle minor injuries. She's tolerable in small doses, and I've never heard of her turning anyone down."

"…Right," Theo nodded. He took a step back before turning to the side and pointing off to the distance. "That tree?"

"The very same."

"You have my thanks."

"No problem. I hope your friend's sister recovers."

As she followed Theo, Matilda grit her teeth. At least he'd been smart enough to avoid saying their names… Hopefully no one would make the connection between her and this. He'd actually gone and claimed she'd been playing! If she heard this, her mother would be outraged, and she'd be grounded for so long!

Even before Matilda reached the Mortal Esse, she only played with dolls at most, with Paul. Her favorite pastime had been reading. She'd never have played in any way that would have gotten her hurt. She wasn't dumb!

"Wait," Matilda frowned, remembering the other things the stranger had said. "There are weird people living in the outskirts?"

Even if she wasn't the lady of the house, it would be Matilda's responsibility to keep an eye out for any concerning rumors she heard. Her family lived in the outskirts too, so this could affect her, if they got any neighbors that started affecting people's opinions.

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Theo snickered. "There are."

"That's terrible," Matilda said, drawing a blank when it came to figuring out what the next step would be—they hadn't actually covered that in her lessons yet. Maybe they would have, if she hadn't escaped them. "I must tell Mother!"

Just because Matilda didn't want to go back to her lessons anytime soon—or potentially ever—didn't mean she'd just let something like that happen!

"With how smart your mother is, she probably already knows," Theo told her, though it sounded a bit suspicious. Had he noticed how disrespectful he'd been, earlier?

"You might be right," Matilda conceded. Her mother did know what she was doing.

As they got closer to the tree Theo was now using as reference point, Matilda heard him sigh. "From what I gather, your mother's from some sort of fallen House, no?"

"She's still in good standing, if you're implying what I think," she countered. He might have had a good head on his shoulders, after all, but she hadn't liked where that type of conversation-starter was likely to go.

"You misunderstand," Theo said swiftly. "I actually don't mean that negatively—I simply wished to confirm the fact. But it is as I suspect, then. Tell me, what does your mother expect you to do once you are grown?"

"I'll represent the family in high society," Matilda stated the obvious. "And even if I have no potential, I can still help build connections with those who do. Maybe even my children, down the line," she was a bit more hesitant about that last part, since while her mother had explained potential had skipped two generations for them, Adelheid's existence clearly meant there was still hope. "I can do, uh. Household management for a future husband."

"I mean this in the nicest way possible—you aren't enough and you aren't going to get that far."

"Pardon me?"

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with you. But you're mortal. If your mother's under the delusion that you can somehow rise to whichever point her family used to be at, she's setting you up for failure," Theo noted, almost in a hiss. He seemed angry, though Matilda didn't understand why. "Seriously, what would you do? If she weren't the only member of her family left, perhaps there would be some social value to it. But no noble in their right mind would marry someone who doesn't bring anything to the bloodline. It's rough, but think of it this way—if you could avoid it, would you intentionally have children that might be born mortal and someday die, while you remain alive indefinitely?"

"My mother's family had good roots," Matilda couldn't help but grumble. She saw the logic to his words, but she wasn't willing to let this strange boy say such things about her mother—she wouldn't voice any agreement, at least.

Did she think it was unrealistic? …Yes. She wasn't unaware of the disconnect between everything her mother had taught her and what little else she'd seen elsewhere. Even in the Sir Heinrich books, she'd seen divides existed, between groups of people. Divides that could be fought against.

But her mother had told her that was fiction. She had to leave those dreams of going on adventures behind now that she was no longer a child, and the most she could do for the family now was helping them rise back up.

"The past only matters so long as it is enduring," Theo sighed. "This isn't… this kind of thing isn't a fair expectation to place upon any child—Devils know how I hate expectations."

"It is our duty to do as our parents tell us, for they are the only reason we can get this far in life," Matilda quoted one of her lessons—probably misquoted, since she couldn't even recall which book it was from.

"I have my doubts about your parents having helped any of you get far in life," Theo rubbed his nose. "You can't just—"

He shook his head. "I hate that I'm considering this."

Matilda raised an eyebrow as daintily as she could manage.

"This is a terrible idea. But I'm thinking about it, and now I can't stop thinking about it…" Theo shook his head even more aggressively now. "Your brother is going to hit me. But it's perfect. You're supposed to be a proper lady? Then be one. Yes, yes…" he continued mumbling to himself, working through whatever plans he was forming on the spot. "It'd be part of my duties—Devils, I could put that under rights."

"What's wrong?" Matilda asked. Reflexively, she pulled away, disturbed by his sudden change of tune.

But Theo just smiled. "Nothing's wrong—I just had an idea," he turned to her. "I'm going to do something stupid, because there's no one around to stop me."

In that moment, the teenager crouched forward, practically kneeling before her to get on eye level.

"Matilda Rīsanin," Theo spoke slowly—he was using a tone even more formal than the one Mother used during their rehearsals. "Do you accept me—Theodosius fon Grēdôcava—as your guideparent, so that me and mine become your family, second only to you and yours?"

Matilda's head was swimming. Alaric's idiot friend was a high noble?! She couldn't believe it, and despite all her lessons, she struggled to react. But she did know the words—it was one of those things her mother had taught her, because all proper ladies should know them, even if they would have never been relevant to someone of so low a station compared to the high nobles.

"I… I, Matilda Rīsanin, daughter of no one of note and granddaughter of Dietrich fon Hūdijan hlāford—" she worried, then, because she could tell from his face that he hadn't liked something about what she'd just said, "—accept you as my guideparent, may you and yours be second only to me and mine."

"Then you have my word that I will lend you an ear should you need it, and a hand should it be warranted, so long as we both live—and that I will be there, most of all, to take you in, should the haven you were born into falter."

It felt like the world was shaking, for a second, and Matilda didn't even catch the notification immediately, instead just looking around in unseemly confusion.

What… what just happened?

Only then did she turn to the panels that lingered on the edge of her vision.

"…Huh?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to keep that to yourself," Theo said casually, as if he hadn't just performed what Matilda's mother claimed was one of the most sacrosanct rituals of those with true worth within the Principality. He resumed walking. "Come—you do need to get your shoulder checked out."

Matilda could only nod along numbly.

How had Alaric met this guy?! She couldn't even wrap her head around the idea of a high noble living in Beuzaheim, let alone somehow befriending her brother. Her brother was nice and all, but Mother always said he'd never been particularly talented at anything. He just didn't stand out.

She barely noticed they'd moved, until Theo was knocking on a door. Within mere seconds, someone answered.

There was an old lady inside, her hair long and white. This woman—Luitgarde, from what Matilda had overheard—was the most wrinkly person she'd ever seen.

A practiced smile was all Luitgarde gave them, but even Matilda could tell it didn't quite reach her eyes, which had a worrying glint to them. "What do you want?"

"No time for pleasantries, got it," Theo seemed to choose to eschew a polite greeting, just as she had. "I'm told this town's doctor has gone on an errand, but my friend's sister has injured herself, and we needed someone to examine her. The shopkeeper next to Old Jericho's property sent me here."

"Oh, yes, Luitgarde do this, Luitgarde do that. Bah," the old woman scoffed. Her eyes narrowed. "Eh, at least you aren't Baldur. Let me see her."

Theo practically shoved Matilda forward—she couldn't help but noticed he seemed to be going out of his way to keep his distance from Luitgarde.

Luitgarde hummed, rubbing her chin. She reached for Matilda's shoulder and squeezed, eliciting a yelp from the girl. "Nothing's broken. Nothing's out of place."

She squeezed harder, and a flash of light overwhelmed Matilda's vision, in circles of purple and orange. It was bizarre. As she blinked her eyes open, she found her shoulder didn't hurt anymore.

All of a sudden, she could move her arm without issue again.

"There, fixed. I think," Luitgarde waved them off. "I'm not a doctor, don't ask for a progress report."

Theo's eyes presumably failed to widen because it would be physically impossible for them to get any bigger. He recomposed himself soon enough, but Matilda noticed. "I thank you, Luitgarde."

She just waved him off again. "It's done, now go away. I need to get back to my nap."

"…I see. Again, you have my thanks."

As they returned to the street, Matilda kept rolling her shoulder in amazement. She knew healing Skills existed, but something as good as this shouldn't have been available to her.

First a high noble and now this woman. Was her mother wrong about Beuzaheim being a place full of weak mortals?

"We should return. Now."

Theo sounded more serious now than he had even when he'd offered to make Matilda his guidechild. He led her back to the passageway they'd come from—why that even existed was beyond her—all the while losing his cool, almost jumping at shadows. "An Executor," he muttered. "An Executor here."

Matilda, meanwhile, slowly shifted her attention away from her miraculously healed shoulder and to the new addition to one of her panels. She eyed the strange Mana Source, still fearing it might disappear if she blinked. Considering it was still there by the time they made their way back to Alaric's rooms, she found herself accepting it was indeed there.

That still left the question, though. Matilda wasn't anyone of note—she was a mortal! None of her lessons had prepared her for something like this—even her lessons about guideparents had only touched the topic of how lesser nobles handled such things!

Spiraling, Matilda idly accepted the prompt to plant it, growing increasingly distraught as reality set in.

What am I supposed to do with a Root?