MY TENURE IS OVER

[prophetisms 982]

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

“Have faith in that goodness, okay?” 

 

Mahaut was merely a distressed teenage girl when she first heard those words from the former Baron Korvacz. Time erased whatever event brought her to Korvacz’s doorstep that day, but she never forgot the lesson she learned. It melded well into her young and growing heart, to not only be good but trust others to do the same.

 

It was the same reason that the humble Lady Mahaut sat across from Queen Juliya, years later, in her twenties. She wanted to make her mother proud, to do good like her, and the queen she served. Despite Mahaut’s lack of a formal education or prior experience with the Royal Court, she had enough prospects for Queen Juliya to honor her as the Crow Warden. There was good to augur between black feathers and flight patterns, so Mahaut upheld the position steadfastly. She enjoyed it too, for the manner of excitement it brought herself and those which the Crow Warden held dearest.

 

Mahaut, deep down, would’ve stayed like that for the rest of her days. She would have woken up every morning to venture into the Karoswald or the Aestmarch, at least, to check on her feathered friends. She could’ve written another volume or two on their behaviors, or how crows approached other species. It was good for Mahaut, and for the kingdom, in a duty that suited her best. That was not her path for long, though. It diverged from her beloved woods to circle the capital and its castle.

 

Or maybe it was like a tree falling into the road, when Svetlana set down the paper and quill before Mahaut. She wished for Mahaut to be the Deputy Grand Lady, and all it took was Mahaut’s signature to make such come true. Never, in the near decade of Mahaut’s service to the Royal Court, did she covet the role. Mahaut still signed her name in ink, though, because she could act with good will again, for others. And she did.

 

Dance lessons, gentle counseling, festivals, construction of stalls, and whatever else kept spirits raised was enough, it seemed. Not good deeds, but signs of a good job done. Mahaut was an obvious choice in succeeding Svetlana, after only half a decade in her newest role. So amidst the flowing water of the church fountain, and the roses being in bloom, Mahaut found herself in possession of that rose gold bulava and the phantom of her predecessor. She was now Grand Lady in every right. As Mahaut adjusted to the weight of the Rose Bulava in her hand and the lonelier halls of Lesanov, a greater burden and absence fell onto the kingdom; the death of Queen Juliya. 

 

. . .

 

Mahaut was never the closest with Juliya, but Mahaut would not be where she is today, were it not for the queen’s nudge in a certain direction. Further direction was lost upon Mahaut. Even if she was a councilor, even if she did good things and garnered the approval of the Lady Palatine and young King over the years, Mahaut still found little trust in herself. She struggled to find the strength to continue down the path as it wound in other directions, or other issues beyond court entangled her. 

 

Somewhere in between those struggles, the children that Mahaut occasionally doted upon stood level with her–or taller. Anaksandr Amador was one of them, from a boy that learned to dance with her in Balian’s royal ballroom to a capable and astute young man set to inherit something far greater than himself by blood. Mahaut, with the best intentions, sought him out to inherit another great thing by merit, too. 

 

“Mea seat needs a worthy successor, who can be heard ag provide ve Royal Court ag future Koenas with a much needed voice,” Mahaut told Anaksandr this in earnest, before admitting, “Ea lost mine with Juliya.” He was a younger man, who could keep up with an equally young king. Those vines of strife that wrapped around Mahaut’s feet and hands were the same that closed around her throat. She was not choked of her devotion, but ambition. It rotted within her worse than anything abandoned in the woods. 

 

. . .

 

Mahaut could’ve stayed like that for another year or two, but not lucky enough to sink into the earth yet, like any other rampant decay. Instead, a younger, fiery woman cleaved the rot from her and sundered the snares. It was the work of another queen and only the start. Abruptly, Nadya had Mahaut and Anaksandr both trail after her into Castle Lesanov, to huddle within the Grand Lady’s office and see the Queen’s will be done.

 

During courtly outlines, jottings of conduct, and frequent references, Mahaut listened to the exchanges of Anaksandr and Nadya. “Hope,” rang out, something that Mahaut’s first queen built her court upon. In that moment, it created a dull ache within the Grand Lady, before it eased into a sense of warmth. She felt remorse for what the court had lost, but hope for what it would gain. In that culmination, as she sat in her chair, Mahaut found faith. Faith, that the spirit of Haense is in good hands.

 

And that was enough.

 

 

 

 

Issued by the 

GRAND LADY OF HANSETI-RUSKA

c. 16th OF JOMA AND UMUND, 571 E.S.

THE RETIREMENT OF MAHAUT VAN LEUVEN.

 

 

VA BIRODEO HERZENAV AG ELDERVIK,

THIRTY-TWO YEARS OF MY LIFE WENT INTO THE ROYAL COURT. Along my journey, I went from wielding whistles of crowsong as the defunct Crow Warden to wielding the Rose Bulava as Grand Lady. Every step on this path, no matter how light or heavy, has been the greatest honor I could’ve asked for. There is a point, however, where hands like mine cannot raise the bulava as high as they once did. There is, in truth, no reason I have to keep holding onto it.

 

From the Crown to its vassals, I see such fervor in the generation after mine. In the way they battle with blades or song, and in the way they handle culture and law. I may not know every one of their names, nor every detail upon their faces, but I am proud of them, regardless. It is their time to lead–it has been their time to lead. My last act as Grand Lady is recognizing such. My tenure is over, after nineteen years.

 

To the next Grand Lady, or Grand Lord, I bid you this: I did not start on this road knowing where it would end. Neither will you. Hold fast onto your fellow travelers and do not be afraid to take their hand when you fall or slow down. There is greater strength in you, and Haense, when you act in solidarity, not isolation.

 

 

DLUM VE EDLERVIK AG VE BIRODAL,

HER EXCELLENCY, Mahaut van Leuven, Grand Lady of Hanseti-Ruska.

 

Spoiler

Thank you to everyone in the Haense community that made this possible for me as much as my character. I never expected to make it this far in terms of community leading or involvement, but I think I’m ultimately a happier person for it. Without the roles of Mahaut, I don’t think I would’ve met a good amount of folks that I care for now or made so many wonderful memories with everyone. 

 

I am so thrilled to see what the future offers us as a community, especially as new opportunities open for other players and their characters.

[Koodini 854]

☨
“Et does niet always hurt to uproot things for those fresher blooms.”

As one escaped the brambles, another came in her place.

It was to be a fair exchange. The weight which Mahaut bore for so long would soon pass to shoulders which wouldn’t shudder beneath it. So as he readied for the descent, his mind replaced those prickles with buds, the likes of which were soon to blossom— he was sure of such.

 

And they wouldn’t fall victim to that same blight. No, he’d tend to them as necessary, even when they ensnared his nights and days. Brambles upon brambles, papers upon papers. Whatever form the matters took, Anaksandr knew one thing: his gratefulness would never turn foreign. Not for that woman who readied him. Not for that lady who saw in him what he failed to see in himself.

Pride began to course … And Mahaut’s intended protégé would assure she was never forgotten.

Her impact was not bound to the courts. Her impact would press further, affecting generations to come.

[psychra_notte 618]

A certain Baron emeritus received the missive on a hill, far on the frontier of the Aestmarch. One of the servants had come with haste, passing the old man the missive. Carefully, he placed his reading glasses on and read, before smiling faintly. Alekzsej Korvacz spoke, "Vy did amazing, Mahaut. Yam proud of how far vy went, now rest, e enjoy vyr retirement." He let out a sigh, picking up his pipe and lighting it. He had a letter to write.

[Frawlic 1602]

Another Korvacz Emeritus came knocking upon the once-doe's door, already somehow drunk with honey mead, and extended a glass to her in turn.
"Welcome to retirement."

[sarahbarah 7105]

Nadya of Novkursain was never meant to become a queen.

 

And yet, Mahaut made her feel like she could be a great one. The quiet reassurances in the palace halls, the knowing glances across council chambers, and the long hours spent poring over courtly reforms to ensure Anaksandr’s succession as the next Grand Lord was steady; Mahaut had been her pillar when the weight of the crown felt too heavy to bear.

 

It was Mahaut who reminded her that strength was not born but forged in the fires of adversity, that a queen’s worth was not in the title she carried but in the choices she made. She had taught Nadya to temper resolve with compassion, and to wield power not for herself, but for the realm. She could never repay what Mahaut had done for her. But she would try, in every event she hosted, in every tradition she nurtured, in every sacrifice she made. She would not let Mahaut’s faith in her be in vain. She would honor her, not just in name, but in the legacy they had built together.

 

Spoiler

I am so proud of you. You've done an amazing job <3

 

[DahStalker 3692]

A nimble hand came to rest upon the ivory banister of the heavens, leveraging her frame in a steady stance. Adela Taronitissa peered down from above should the great skies allow it, watching her daughter afar. Similarly in their genteel nature, though different in spirit. "Such greatness." She'd softly utter, verily eager to one day reunite with her beloved youth. 

[PeachLova 585]

The Keeper of the Royal Menagerie had assumed his post at the wildlife observatory, crammed between two bickering junior keepers who could not agree on the proper feed allocation for the crown's great woolly mammoth. Any other day, Cardan might have intervened with a clever remark or a sharp directive. Today, he remained silent. His mind left to drift to the evening before.

 

There he sat, across from the Queen and Mahaut. It was yet another conversation about the workings of the observatory, the usual exchange of plans and ideas. Cardan had settled into the rhythm of it, his charm ever-present and his words ever practiced. 

 

Then, Mahaut spoke.  

 

Her words were unbridled but unmistakably clear:  

 

She was to retire.

 

After years of dedicated service to the Royal Court, they had reached the end of an era. They had been children when it all began. He, the trembling lordling who barely understood the weight of it all. And she, the beloved Crow Warden, tirelessly upholding the name of Leuven. They had faced so much together, as Leuvens, as brother and sister.

 

The thought of joining her in retirement lingered. A quiet life in the countryside or wherever peace might be found. But no, there was still too much work and so little time. His hair had begun to gray, his bones ached with every step. There would be no rest for the wicked, not while Mahaut earned her well-deserved reprieve. Not while his respite remained a distant, unattainable dream.

[Dramatude 861]

The missive was placed on Adelina's desk. As she read the parchment, a soft, gloved hand rose to rest on her chest, pride swelling within her. "Mea sestra, how proud I am of you." The elder van Leuven sister smiled fondly, thinking of the great impact her sister had. "Vy have brought greatness to our family, and kingdom. Enjoy vyr retirement, dear sister. Soon I shall be following your lead in retiring." she would say, folding the missive and tucking it away in the family archives.

 

Despite the hardships they had faced in their upbringing, Mahaut had risen from the strifes of life with the utmost grace. Adelina would always be inspired by her younger sister's ability to do so, but she couldn't help but be envious of her as well.