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[!] Please do not metagame any contents in this post. No one knows anything of what’s happened unless they were informed in rp!! [!]


You should never have come back. You need to leave… Now.”

 

“But how can I not stand by your side in your hour of need, when we are otherwise alone?”

 

“Forget I exist, for who you see standing before you will surely die the moment she says ‘I do’.”

 

“If you die, then surely I will too, and we will either find peace in the Heavens or wander this miserable world as phantoms, but always together.”

 

Clementine & Constantina Aldersberg, c. 2061

 

. . . Maybe we did die.”


 

What a monotonous day in Valwyck it had been. The weather, even this late into the Spring, remained chilled, and the sky was overcast as it typically was. The land’s Duchess, Constantina, was returning to her quarters in Barden after a brief conversation with Anastasya Ruthern. Despite her sour demeanor, Constantina had found her almost pleasant. She could at least say the Lady was refreshing in her honesty.

 

It wasn’t but a few minutes after she had changed into something more comfortable and sat at her vanity that a courier knocked. Constantina bid him entry, and peered back at him through her mirror. Despite having kept this particular servant all the years she had lived with the Baruchs, she could never quite remember his name… all she knew is that he was amongst the most trustworthy of her entourage, so she kept him close.

 

“Your Grace, I hope I am not distu–”

 

“I’m in no mood for your pleasantries or excuses,” she called behind her.

“What news has brought you to me at this hour?”

 

“...It is about the girl, Your Grace.”

 

Ah, yes. The girl. An illegitimate child, made known to Constantina only through her own daughter. The bastard was younger than any of the legitimate children Constantina had borne. With no word from her husband in years, she could only imagine where he had gallivanted off to, but she never cared enough to write letters or send the Greyguard to ensure his return.

 

“Whatever you have must be important, 

unless my ire has become your colleagues’ new source of entertainment.”

 

“Never, Your Grace! 

It is only that one of the stewards has confirmed the address of the child and her mother!”

 

“Is it?

Tell me then. You’ve piqued my interest.

 

A modest cottage, on the foot of one of the surrounding mountains in the edges of the Baruch territory. Certainly nothing to be proud of. Constantina couldn’t help but even wonder how Duncan might’ve stumbled upon its inhabitant, let alone come to bear a child through her. Though, it would explain how the child had remained unknown for so long. Why was it that, only now, she had been allowed to emerge? After so many years, Constantina was so close to reaching true peace. With no obstacles or burdens–her children were old enough to be self-sufficient, her husband’s absence had allowed her to roam free, and her father’s death removed nearly all expectations her maiden family held her to. Ignorance was bliss, as some say, and the knowledge of her husband’s infidelity made privy to those in the Rittersburg Square shattered that fragile haven. She could only pray that news would not travel so quickly, as it had a way of doing across the Imperium.

 

And what else?” The longer the conversation continued, 

the longer Constantina’s ruminations dragged, and the more ire filled her voice.

 

“...‘What else’, Your Grace?”

 

“And what else do you have?! Are you daft?

I do not care about where that wench and her brat live

if you have nothing to do about it!”

 

“Oh!– Of course, Your Grace. Well, eh…

We’ve found a supplier of arsenic.”

 

“Arsenic? And pray tell, what will a cosmetic do to aid me?”

 

“It is just that…– arsenic can be fatal, Your Grace. Especially in high amounts”

 

“...Fatal, you say?”

 

At last, something eased in the Duchess. Something that contrarily caused her servant to tense up. She turned to fully regard him with her attention, and offered but a chilling smile. It was some years ago that Constantina realized something had shifted within her. She had always been calloused and was prone to harboring contempt, but in her youth she had never been prone to the thoughts of violence that she carried with her now. She acted on it rarely–she knew better, if only for the sake of image alone–but the fantasies haunted any who might make the smallest misstep. A haughty noble’s snide comment, a kitchen maid’s error in the dinner preparations, a mere passerby’s ignorance of her standing–it caused her blood to burn hot; it caused her to see an inexplicable red.

 

Never could she fulfill those urges of bloodlust. Not to any higher birth, or a civilian, or a foreigner in public. Whispers would spread too quickly, and rumors would become the death of her as well. But a farmer whose name had never come up in almost twenty years? Who had no family? Who lived in a run-down shack hidden in the Garenwald? No one would miss her. There would be no investigation, not even a funeral. And that child borne of her homewrecking would have no one to support her.

 

“..Your Grace? You, ehm– you were lost in thought. Is all well?”

 

With a blink, Constantina snapped from the trance of her thoughts.

“Ah– yes, I am well. You have been helpful tonight.”

 

“Of course, Your Grace. But, if I might ask…

What do you plan to do now?

 

“What do you think? You’re a smart boy, are you not?”

 

“You will… you’ll kill them?

 

“You catch on quick.” Constantina turned back around, 

looking into her mirror to take down her hair as if it were nothing.

 

“Even… the child?”

 

“The child?”

 

Dammit. The child. Briefly, Constantina had to think. She knew she was not above killing the bastard girl and erasing the problem entirely, but… what new problems would sprout in the wake of her blood? Her children and several others knew of the child’s existence. They knew of Constantina, of her unhappiness. What risks would be posed, if any even guessed it to be her? Her previous crimes were barely escaped. Would the public believe that she did not commit this one too?

 

No. Leave the girl alive. 

Surely with no other kin, she will not survive on her own for long.

There is no need to bloody our hands further.”

 

“What if she attempts to investigate or bring out the truth, my Duchess?”

 

“Do you not hear yourself?” She nearly laughed. “What authority would believe an orphan born from wedlock over a Lady of our grand Empire? Do you forget I serve Her Imperial Majesty herself?”

 

“I… suppose you would be correct..”

 

“Of course I am.” Constantina couldn’t help but roll her eyes. 

She waved a hand, quickly dismissing her courier. Go, then. Nothing will get done if you stand there dawdling.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace.” With a hurried bow, he retreated from the Ducal quarters.


“I do not ever think I will stop hating you.”

 

Hate– is just what families of our standing do. I tried my best, I cannot change it now.

But I tried.”

 

“You did try, and you failed, and you only feel remorse once it is far too late.”

 

And how I am punished. If it makes thee feel better, I shall surely suffer in the next life.”

 

“...It does bring me relief. Even more so that it will be so soon.”

 

George V & Constantina Aldersberg, c. 2075


 

Several days had gone by. Constantina’s routine remained unchanged–she managed Valwyck’s lands, she oversaw her children’s tutors, she entertained Garen, Duncan W., and Briana’s affections, and she traveled between cities. She was almost bored, but something almost akin to excitement bubbled in her chest. 

 

A knock resounded from the door. Constantina had been combing through her opulent and excessive jewelry collection when she granted the familiar courier entry. She smiled at him; a chilling thing.

 

“Pray, you bring me good news this afternoon?”

 

The man stood solemn, but firm. “I do, Your Grace.”

 

Tell me.

 

“The man we sent… he managed to break into the house and spike her ale.”

 

And?

 

“...And the woman did not survive the night.”

 

Oh, what relief washed over Constantina’s body–it was nearly euphoric! To picture the woman who had ruined the peace of the Baruch Household, who uprooted their family. She would be severed from her own ilk permanently. She imagined it wouldn’t be long before her daughter would be abandoned to die, or something of the sort. There would be no sympathy for her predicted demise either.

 

“You’ve done well,” She hummed eagerly, 

her smile reflecting in the precious metals and jewels laid across her setting table. 

Constantina picked up two brooches: 

one set with heather and thistle flowers, and another with a rearing steed.

“Which brooch do you think I might wear to celebrate?”

 

Instead of answering, the servant dared speak up, 

“Might I ask something, Your Grace?”

 

“Speak.” She held up the floral brooch, 

forged in an Ayrikiv style and gifted to her by her husband.

 

“...What will you do about the Duke, once–if– he returns?”

 

The query brought Constantina to a pause. 

After a moment of deliberation, though, she set the floral brooch down, 

and brought the second brooch–Alban in design and gifted to her by her Father–to her chest.

“I believe I shall wear this one today.”

 

The courier’s brows furrowed. “But Your Grace–”

 

Her head snapped to him irritably. 

What? I’ve had about enough of your ramblings.”

 

A hand gestured to the pin of ivory and gold.

“There is blood still uncleaned from that one.”


.          ..”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I killed my Father.”

 

“How...– what happened, Constantina? Why did you do it?”

 

“He found a peace he did not deserve. It was something I had to do myself.

It had to hurt.

 

“I can only imagine that as closely related as you two were… this will hurt deeply.”

 

“I am not hurt about what I did.

I hate that this was not enough. It never will be.

I hate that he turned me into this, and I hate that it is not undone.”

 

.          . & Constantina Aldersberg, c. 2076


Spoiler

We <3 using NPCs to kill NPCs off screen. Enjoy a lil bit of Connie evillness heh

 

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i love this so much its hard to put into words.

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