L'Empereur ch 2 preview (Patreon)

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Pastah!Cardin

Mazarine found me with a book in one hand, a nightlight in the other.

We had set off from the Winchester Manor in a private bullhead, those bulbous VTOLS that the wealthy were fond of using. After all, why walk when one could simply fly and since we were heading into the sort-of-frontier but provincial enough by the normal Valean's standard, it was a necessity and not a luxury. Considering that trying to travel normally outside the walls and on the roads was just an extra layer of danger that could easily be bypassed by either chartering a bullhead or flying.

The pilot had told us that we were due to arrive in the estate by the coming morning and basically signalled us to go get some sleep.

Well, Mazarine dozed off while I popped up a book and quietly devoured it contents, hoping to get some knowledge of the area before landing.

As the third son, I wasn't particularly expected to inherit much from the family. Henry was getting the lion's share, William opting to get some estates while I basically got the scraps, from a certain point of view. Thinking about it, the place that daddy dearest sent me was possibly the inheritance I was going to get if he croaked.

I had at first tried to read in peace but Mazarine constantly trying to fall asleep on my shoulder was a distraction I didn't need. Now, there was certainly other aircraft we could have taken that would have given Mazarine and I proper cabins at least. However, those things were bigger than the usual bullhead and we were going to the countryside, not another kingdom. So, I gently got off from my seat and occupied another in the somewhat cramped interior of the aircraft.

Despite the massive space in the bullhead, I quite had a lot of baggage with me alongside with plenty more on the way. Thanks to my size, I had trouble trying to sit but it was a lot better for comfort than constantly having a woman trying to distract me with her light snoring.

With reading space claimed, I dived into the contents of the book, to learn more about the little house I was getting. Upon further reading, the more it had dawned to me about how much humanity was being denied by the Grimm.

To put it clearly, the people of Remnant are aware that they live in a globe and the landmasses that make it up are absurdly large, in a scale that the show quite never seemed to impart. Vale itself was a pretty large Kingdom, in the sense that it's total claimed territory extended from France to Poland. That was an accepted international fact. However, the total amount of territory that it was actually using amounted to relatively little. Then again, it was pretty similar in the other Kingdoms, having absurd amounts of claimed territory but the populations are concentrated in certain areas due to said lands being infested with the nightmare fuel Grimm.

The first Grimm I saw was a boarbatusk and as the name suggests, it was those pig Grimm. To celebrate getting my aura unlocked, daddy dearest had me kill a boarbatusk. Suitably weakened of course and in a regulated enviroment but still, it was a grimm. Just seeing that thing spoke to me of the sheer wrongness it emanated. Honestly, it was like a concentrated ball of sheer hate and malevolence that got my hairs to stand on end. I would never forget that hatred in its eyes as I killed it.

Grimm aside and on how terrible they were, even more terrible was the sheer scale of development the bastards and by extension, Salem, was holding back. The hinterlands of Vale had so much prime real estate, forests teeming with game and trees, rivers and lakes and its coast filled with fish and other marine life, mountains and hills yet unopened and with metals precious or otherwise, waiting to be mined and sent to factories to be refined and manufactured.

Maybe it was the glaring capitalist in me that just saw the veritable dollar or lien signs everywhere. Development spurred growth and that growth meant raising the standard of living for most people and the most important thing and as Arthur Morgan would put it, muneh.

To start with, the estate I was being exiled to was in the many hectares. According to Valean law, there was nothing really stopping anyone from taking as much land as the could want and the Kingdom was happy to give it for a cheap price. Even if someone did not have money, it was legal to pay the Kingdom in IOU's only as long as the land could be used and developed.

That sort of thing had attracted both the adventurous and the desperate to try their luck. Sometimes, it worked out. Sometimes, it did not. The former was the most common.

The imaginably named Winchestown, as penned by a very imaginative ancestor up the line, was one of those towns. It used to be much more populated when the days were younger, the trees greener, and the air clearer but time and the infuriating Grimm had sapped it of much of its population. Now, it was an estate dedicated to farming and wine.

I was under no impression that my life there was going to be absolutely hard. Farmwork itself is hard work but the prospect of being far from Daddy Dearest was far too enticing. There was only so much intense gamer moments I could stomach before it got old. For a man that prized himself a noble and had the voice of Charles Dance, it was a bit surreal to hear him mutter racial slurs under his breath when one of our laborers stumbled or something.

I shook my head. Now, there was only so much information I could gleam from reading a dusty tome and it had been awhile since we had taken stock of Winchestown so I resolved to do two things once I landed there. Make full inventory of what we had and a proper census. Then, change its name because Jesus and Mary, Winchestown was the most stupid name I ever heard.

"Doing some light reading, Young Master?" An amused voice spoke up from above. I glanced up, closing the book with a huff. Mazarine was standing before me, eyes twinkling despite the low light of the bullhead.

''You know, my brother told you that you could use my first name,'' I said, setting the book aside on a nearby box. Mazarine nodded. "Yes, your brother did but not you. Some might consider it impertinent of a glorified bodyguard to be on firstname basis with their Prince.''

I raised an eyebrow at that. ''Do you really believe in that stuff? Princes? Kings?''

A look came upon her face, an utterly intense look one might give to a devoted saint but since it was rather dark, I chalked it up to a trick of the eye. ''Of course, I do,'' Mazarine chuckled. ''That is why I am here watching over you instead of putting my Beacon-mandated education somewhere else.''

I widened slightly at that. ''You graduated from Beacon?'' I asked. ''And please, sit down and if it's just us two, call me Cardin. Save that young master shit for public use.'' I later added. This familiarity I was trying to instill was to make friends with my guard. If I'm going to have daddy dearest watch over my every shoulder, might as well befriend my overseer. Mazarine was clearly loyal to the ideals of our family but I was going to slowly make sure that her loyalty would be handed to me.

Mazarine sat down, taking my invitation. She then answered the question I had earlier. ''Yes, I went to Beacon for the prestige. My parents were the ones that trained me so when I got into Beacon, I only practiced what I was taught.''

I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly to show my interest. ''The prestige? I thought Huntsmen had to go to Beacon or the other schools.'' At that, Mazarine shook her head, her fluffy feathery hat resting on her lap. ''Beacon and the other schools, they provide both training and education. The only thing that matters is you can pass the examinations to become a Huntsman. You can't pass it, no license.''

I mean, it made sense. A hunstman was a profession and every profession that provided services meant licensing to prove that your service was legit. ''But there are others who operate out of licenses though. It saves them the trouble of pushing paper but being licensed has more benefits,'' Mazarine said. She the leant forward. ''Why the questions, interested in becoming a huntsman?''

To her surprise, I shook my head. ''Not now, no. Pops said watch over the estate so that's what I'm going to do in the meantime.''

At that, Mazarine gave me a look. ''You're not what I expected,'' she admitted. ''Pardon for the bluntness but I thought you were going to be a bit more..."

''Dumb as bricks?'' I supplied. She snickered before answering. ''No, I thought you were going to be energetic, like most teens are. I know, I've been one.'' I raised an eyebrow, looking at her up and down. ''How long has it been since you graduated Beacon?''

''A year or so, why?''

''So that makes you what, nineteen, twenty?'' I guessed. Mazarine smirked, her gloved hands crossing underneath her chest. ''Twenty,'' she confirmed. ''Good guess!''

''Excellent,'' I beamed. ''I wouldn't want to presume. It's rude to ask a Lady's age after all.''

''Aw, you think I'm a lady?'' she cooed.

Yeah. I think she and I were going to be great friends.

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The bullhead landed with a shake. Mazarine and I had continued talking before sleep took us both again. The shaking of the bullhead brought us awake. That and the pilot speaking through the intercom. The ramp opened and bright-orange light filtered into the bullhead. Our boots trudged on the metal as we exited the bullhead.

There, I saw the place which was going to be my home for the foreseeable future.

Winchestown, and I still disliked that name, was the name for the settlement. The Winchestor estate stood on a high hill overlooking a small village. At the lower level, it had thick stone walls protecting its right flank while the sea protected its left. Stretching, I could make out extensive vineyards and other plots of land reserved for subsistence farming, just enough to feed the families living here in their homes which were either single level houses built of stone with tiled roofs, with the odd two story houses here and there.

''Damn, if this is what exile is like, you should get exiled more, Young Master,'' Mazarine quipped, her eyes taking in the sight of the sun rising over vineyards and the sea to the left, blue and bubbling with foam, the waves crashing against the sand below or kissing the walls of the small quays here and there.

''Mister Winchester!'' a voice called out to me. We turned to see two people marching up towards us. The first one was a portly looking gentleman with grey hair. His clothes looked plain but there was an assured quality to them that spoke of their use. The second was a younger woman with blue hair and amber eyes. Looking at the maid dress she wore, it was clear to me at what her intended function was.

The two stopped before me, the portly man taking in his breaths. His face was red, his mouth huffing and breathing. Clearly, he wasn't used to all the walking he had to do. Judging by the fact that the roads were just clear patches of dirt, it told me of the added difficulty of walking. The maid on the other hand looked serene, bowing before me with a flourish of her dress. Finally, the older man had gotten his air and introduced himself. "My name...my name is Robert,'' he said through his breaths. ''Robert Brown. I'm the chief of Winchestown. My family and I, we've lived in this place for generations.''

"It's great to meet you, Mister Robert,'' I smiled at him, offering my hand he accepted. We shook. Robert took the moment to expand on a impromptu family history. ''My family, we're loyal to yours, Mister Winchester. It's good that your father sent you here. The last overseer was a pisspot, if you pardon my blunt language.''

''No no, it's alright,'' I assured him. I turned to the maid who was at this moment still bowing at me. With my giving her an acknowledgement, she stood straight, her face and language all refined grace. "Young Master, my name is Celeste Azurine, the head-maid for the entire estate. I also serve as an accountant and record keeper.''

''A pleasure, Celeste,'' I smiled. She wasn't as comely looking as Mazarine but she was a graceful woman in her own right, as expected of a maid. ''Your father told us to expect you to arrive within this hour. I've prepared you a breakfast at the manor, Young Master.''

I smiled, my stomach rumbling. ''I'm famished. Thank you, Celeste.'' I turned to Robert. ''I hope you don't mind me asking but have you eaten yet. Mister Brown?''

He shook his head. ''Then, come and join me.'' I turned to Celeste who straightened at the attention. ''That will be alright, right?'' She bowed. ''I can prepare two extra plates for Mister Brown and your bodyguard, Young Master.''

''Then lead the way,'' I nodded at her. She walked off and we followed her. Our path had taken us around the bullhead which was now slowly powering down, no doubt for the other staff to get my bags. ''Do make sure to tell the other staff to give the pilot some food as well,'' I said, eyeing the pilot attending to my bags.

''I will have to excuse myself once I serve you, Young Master,'' Celeste said, still walking. ''Currently, the only maid in the estate is myself.''

I blinked. It was then that I saw the estate proper. To call it a proper estate was a stretch as it had seen better days. The exterior was made of stone and no doubt looked brighter in its hayday but the paint had worn off and the sun had beaten down the walls and bleaching them. The roof also looked to be in disrepair and desperately needed a new patch of paint while the windows had vines and other such plants growing on some, others were just straight up blocked. The front was dilapidated, the front facade near crumbling and the door, oh the front door.

My lips thinned.

Seeing the state of the manor and the surrounding fields, I knew that this place needed some work. I wasn't really picky in terms of dwellings since I had slept in worst places in my previous life but never did I have to worry about accidentally sniffing asbestos or some manner. Despite the rundow look of the estate, I had little doubts it would look very good once it was brought up to standards. It was made in the baroque style and while not exactly as big as a palace, it would be a suitable country home.

Now, my inheritance wasn't something to laugh at which also spoke of why Cardin was as carefree as he was in RWBY. Dude knew he was set up for life. I had plans, to use my money to of course, keep the estate clean and orderly but I wasn't going to splurge it all on decorating. I had a small county to run after all and the development freak in me demanded I get the estate developed and most importantly, making money.

I would need a shit ton of money to finance my ambitions after all.

But first, food.

Celeste opened the heavy doors of the estate, the outstretched bird of the Winchesters carved on the wood. It was supposed to make a statement on the majesty and power of my family. That power wasn't translated well though since the old wood made the bird look sickly and faded. The doors opened without protest and Celeste stepped aside to let me in first. I walked in and to my surprise, the inside was way cleaner than the outside. The Great Hall was expansive, columns flanking each side and in the middle a wide space for dances and other functions though doubt I would be holding balls with how remote the estate was. On the ceiling was a grand chandelier but a great cloth was draped over it. I suppose it helped with dusting. At the very end were stairs that led into the second floor, the columns reaching up into the ceiling. For a moment, a sense of deja vu gripped me. It was all very familiar and then, it clicked.

It was just like the Auditore villa from Assassin's Creed 2, but French.

Not a bad design choice, to my tastes.

''Damn, inside is way better than the out,'' Mazarine whistled, her boots clacking against the marble floor. ''I think there's a lesson to learn here,''

''Quite. I will have to look into the absolute state of the manor before deciding on what repairs to make,'' I added. Celeste and the town chief following afterwards.

''The previous Overseer neglected the state of the manor and its lands hence the dilapidation. I have attempted to keep the inside presentable as much as I could but I am the only maid,'' said Celeste .

''You do a good enough job in doing that, Celeste. Great work,'' I praised, impressed at her cleaning powers. ''I'll see about getting you some extra hands,''

''We have some girls who would be more than happy to service you, Mister Winchester,'' Brown offered. The phrasing made me raise an eyebrow but the tone he gave wasn't exactly weasel like so I gave it a pass. ''I'll think on it. Now, food.''

We were led into the back was a lawn or what looked to be a lawn if it wasn't overgrown. At the side was a large pool though the water was murky and dark. There was a pleasant breeze from the sea and the view of the distant waters was a pleasant distraction. We sat on a clearing where a long table had been set and food. Celeste got the utensils and we dived in.

As we ate, I asked Celeste and Brown on the state of the entire property. As she had been temporarily handling the manor, she was the one who went first.

''This manor produces wine from the vineyards as a chief export,'' Celeste explained, standing before us as we ate. ''However, the vines have been suffering from a lack of proper direction. With the proper attention, they can easily be restored to its former glory.''

Wine. Right. I then turned to Brown. ''Chief, what can you tell me about...'' I paused before forcing myself to speak the name. ''What is Winchestown's industries? Who are our nearest neighbours?'' The elderly man first chewed on his food then answered. ''We've been farming for as long as we remember, Mister Winchester. We do also have animal products and fish from the sea.'' I resisted the urge to scowl. Farming was an important industry, that was for certain. But the real money makers was industry. I was going to have to take a tour of the lowlands to fully see what the place had to offer before making exact plans. "As for neighbors, there are some distant villages here and there but getting to them is difficult thanks to the grimm and the poor state of the roads. The only one we can truly rely and trade on is the Island of Patch.'' I perked up at that. ''Patch is far on the map but it's faster to reach by boat than travelling by land to the closest village.''

Figures.

We ate up and Celeste excused herself to attend to the dishes as well as my bags. I wanted to help out since I was bringing quite a lot of luggage, mostly books and other specialty items but a part of me wanted to get a feel for my land soon. So, I slipped her and the pilot some extra Lien as recompense. With that, I descended the slopes of the hill and into the lowland below.

For being such a lonely town, there was a lot of children running around.

''How is the town in terms of Grimm attacks?'' I asked as a pair of kids ran past us, laughing and traipsing along as little sprogs do.

''The Grimm occasionally come here and there. There are hills and valleys outside the walls, thick forests too. Small fry do come, like beowolves. There is also sea grimm but huntsmen and the Atlesian Navy patrol the sea routes,'' revealed the Captain.

''Ah, the walls,'' Mazarine said sardonically. ''They look like it came straight out of a book. We should prepare for sieges, my lord.''

''They're old but they protect the town well enough,'' coughed the mayor, feeling the need to protect their reputation.

''Walls aside, I'd love to see them. But first, I want to see the farms, the storage houses.'' I said, bringing them back to speed.

"This way,'' Brown indicated and we followed him.

''Already comfortable with being a feudal lord?'' Mazarine whispered.

''Is this a trick question?''

"Maybe,'' she said with an audible pop.

''I think I want to be more than a feudal lord,'' I said, my eyes attracting me to something in the distance.

''Oh?'' I ignored Mazarine, my eyes affixed to some...houses. To call it houses would be a mite generous. They looked like rundown shacks that belonged to a shanty-town, pitiful looking hovels mix-mashed with different building materials. Honestly, it looked so much like the shanty towns back in my old country. My lips were thin.

''What are those?'' I asked Brown. He squinted before he got what I was talking about.

"Faunus,'' he said in a even tone.

And sure enough, I could see some children, animal parts here and there. They eyed us warily as we passed. The older of them glared at me more for obvious reasons. I was the son of a known racist after all and they more than likely expected me to be just as cruel to them as daddy dearest was. Obviously, I wasn't going to have heated gamer moments like my father. One, racism is obviously terrible. Two, excluding a portion of the population for whatever reason is detrimental to societal development. To so blatantly beat down good Valeans instead of utilizing them for the Glory of Vale was just so wasteful. And three, there were bigger things to worry about such as the Grimm.

"What do they offer Winchestown?'' I asked, taking care to keep my voice level and not incredulous at the stupid name.

''Field hands, mostly,'' replied Brown. ''And low level work.''

''Any particular skills?''

Brown thought about it. ''Some...I haven't really asked. They tend to stay by themselves.''

Or they're excluded from the main town which was often the norm. Even in the wilds where cooperation was needed, the faunus were still slapped for some reason.

''Who's their representative?''

I noted the frown on his face.

''It would be best if you let me handle her, Mister Winchester. He's difficult." Brown sighed. ''Goat faunus, very stubborn. I fear he would have many things to say to you if you meet him.''

I leaned with interest. ''A goat faunus, eh? What's his name?''

''Jeanne Lance,'' he replied.

Jean Lance.

Lance.

Lannes.

I stopped walking. I knew for certain that RWBY had lots and lots of characters taken from Earth legends and heroes but that was just on the nose. Then again, RWBY wasn't subtle either. Weiss Schnee. Ice Snow. Aslan Altan, from Alp Arslan of Turkish history fame. And of course, May Zedong. Totes named after a purple mushroom and not at all related to a certain Mao Zedong. The fact that high vantage points made her more effective and Mao was famous for the Long March into the mountains, a high vantage place, was also a coincidence.

''I want to speak with him soon. I'd like to talk with him on how best to utilize his people.'' I said, to Brown's dismay. "You want to talk to the faunus?"

I gave him a look. ''My father tasked me to get this place running and I want to ensure that every single piece of this land turns a profit. That includes the faunus here.''

This entire feudal exchange would be frowned upon in the city.

But we were not in the city.

The Color Revolution may have changed much for many but for some, they yearned for the old days like the rotten club my father championed. I was going to use that to my advantage.

For a better Vale and a better world.

''I'll...I'll arrange it, Mister Winchester.'' Brown muttered. I beamed and we continued on in our tour.

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I collapsed into the sofa.

I had been doing nothing but walk about, inspect the full extent of my land, shaking hands, and more. Now, I had exercised and kept myself well and even then, I was left exhausted. Mazarine on the other hand simply laughed as she leant back against the wall. The sun was now setting but the lights of the manor made sure that darkness would not enter my abode.

"My feet feel like dying,'' I groaned into the pillow. I glanced up at my bodyguard. “How the hell are you still walking about? We walked the same length.”

”Endurance, son!” Mazarine grinned. Shaking her head, she crossed her arms, still nursing her infuriating grin. “So, what did we learn today?”

My face met the pillow. “We control, in theory, land that ought to be a decent sized city in Western Vale,’’ I spoke through the fluffy material. “But it’s being used to make agricultural products, of all things. We also sit on the Vacuo-Vale-Mistral-Atlas-Patch sea route but we are a passing interest instead of an actual destination.”

”You disapprove?”

”Of what?”

Mazarine tilted her head. “Of being agricultural.”

I twisted on the couch, eyeing Mazarine. “There is only so much profit to be found in wine and wheat. Medium to Heavy Industry is where the big profits are it when it gets plugged into a consumer economy.” I sat up on the couch, my clothes wrinkly from the stress I put it through. “That or dust but that market has been cornered by Atlas and I have no interest in getting into that sort of industry.”

”So what do you intend? Clear the fields, suddenly build factories left and right?”

I shook my head, sweeping my legs back onto the floor. “Nope, for two reasons. One, I would have to start from the ground up in building infrastructure and such not to mention import the know-how here into Winchestown. It would be absurdly expensive and difficult so no one in their right mind would leave the safety of the cities for some no name frontier town. Two, Atlas.”

Mazarine nodded, listening to my explanation. Her eyebrow rose when I mentioned snow Prussia. “What about the Atlesians?”

I leaned back on the couch. “You know how much tons of grain Atlas produces?” To that, she shook her head.

”That’s because they don’t. Food made in Atlas is imported, the whole snow continent unsuited for farming. Vale produces the food thanks to our fertile valleys and we send them to the Atlesians. In return, Atlas provides security with their armies and we do get some discount prices on Dust. Hence, I will have to see what can be improved on our food but that does not mean I will be a farmer forever.”

I stood up to my full height. “Vale needs many things and she has only few or none of what she actually needs. Between Atlas and us, we are the junior partner. We have Beacon and Huntsmen, Atlas has Dust, an army that uses it, and leads the world in technology. What we can do is fortify what we have and build up on what we don’t.”

”Ambitious, Cardin. Very.” Mazarine said. “And in a dangerous provincial backwater?”

My lips were thin. “For now. Once day, this place will be a city of light. Vale will be the star in the sky, that will drive back even the deepest darkness.” I went by the window, staring at the extensive villages and fields below. “I already have ideas. All I need is time.”

”Stirring speech,” Mazarine clapped. Her tone was supporting instead of sarcastic. “But there’s also something that you forgot to mention, something that should not be neglected.”

”Oh yeah? What?”

Mazarine’s smile disconcertingly turned cheshire. “Your martial training, Cardin. I’ll give you a pass since it’s night. But tomorrow morning, we will begin. Four sharp, we will go for a run. Five, you are lifting weights.”

I turned around. “I’m taller than you. More muscled too.”

She snorted. “That may be but if you tap out before the main event, that leaves everyone disappointed. As an older woman, Cardin, let me tell you some advice. Make sure your stamina lasts.”

”I feel that’s not part of the combat training, Pothos.”

She grinned. “I’m only looking out for my future feudal overlord. Go get some sleep, Young Master Winchester.”

And I did, falling asleep into a comfortable fluffy bed, dreaming of stars.

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A/N: In this instance of L'Empereur, there will be more pronounced involvement of RWBY characters thanks to the centrality of Winchestown. I will be putting up a poll of characters for main waifu so make your bets, sports fans.