Princess Seraphel du Marquin greeted Lord Lantal as he returned from another ride. It was the thing to do; and she had literally nothing else to pass the time. Her father was not responding to her snippy

[Messages]. He must be ignoring her.

Thus, rather than wasting silver and gold coins per spell cast—the Mage’s Guild charged per word—she tried to invest herself in Noelictus’ rich…undead…culture.

It actually wasn’t hard. Oh, Seraphel had ignored all the books she’d been gifted by her mother when she’d heard of the engagement on Noelictus. She cared not at all about the history of the nation.

Politically, Noelictus was rather reclusive. It earned money from its huge agricultural basis and did not tend to instigate wars.

Ailendamus, its neighbor, by contrast, was a firebrand empire that had pushed Noelictus and other nations as well as absorbed multiple kingdoms already. This marriage would strengthen Noelictus and Calanfer’s ties, both of whom were close to the strong, aggressive kingdom, which was like a goose among…ducks. No, a swan. They were even more vicious.

However, Seraphel could learn of Noelictus through Lord Lantal and Lady Risel’s lives. She saw the two children run up as their father dismounted with his six retainers.

Six, accompanying the [Lord] of the realm. Seraphel had never walked about with less than ten bodyguards and servants. She knew all hands were needed for harvesting, guard duty, and so on, but it was still fascinating to see Afiele’s ways.

“Father, did you find any undead?”

“Just a fox. Too rotten to do anything with. We had to bury it—eurgh. It was full of maggots. Risel, I crave a bath—”

Lantal was embracing his children when he saw Seraphel. The [Princess] felt her stomach roiling. Had he handled the thing himself? It sounded like he had!

“Apologies, your Highness.”

He bowed. Ser Dalimont and the Thronebearers looked frankly horrified.

“I am quite alright, Lord Lantal.”

She lied, smiling at Risel as she ordered a bath drawn. The [Princess] eyed the man.

“Do you patrol every day?”

“Every day. We try to send three patrols out and ride across all of Afiele. Well, they’re combining that with the search for that [Necromancer]. It’s generally safe. Small undead are the most we find.”

“But you always find undead?”

Lantal smiled grimly.

“Animals more than people, Your Highness. I was told they do not become undead in other lands. Or if so—rarely. But Afiele and Noelictus are special.”

Special indeed. Seraphel glanced at Ser Dalimont.

“I do not recall anything like that. We buried our poor family dog three years ago—and she needed no preparations, although we did make sure she was in a secure wood casket to prevent reanimation.”

“Did you take off the head?”

Lantal saw Seraphel blanch at the thought of having to behead Moppy, the royal dog. Ser Dalimont hastily interrupted.