Despite my sour mood, time moved on, and a week after my, um, talk with Seren, Paideia was playing host to one of the most important gatherings on the Umbrean peninsula. From Sunday to Ymirsday the school would be the host of all the independent city-states in the region, all of which were a part of the Coalition of Independent City-states of Umbrea.

It did not need reminding that the situation on the Umbrean peninsula was precarious, at best. And had been ever since it was repopulated, after my… mishap about a millennium ago. Everyone had wanted a piece of it ever since it became habitable again. During the long period of restoration, several expeditions were launched to reclaim the land. Unfortunately, almost all of them were doomed upon arrival.

Especially those sent by the Church of the Holy Light.

Over time, settlers came to the peninsula from all over the coastal regions of the Mediarene Sea, amongst them those who created what was nowadays known as the Nasiate of Mazilach. The city-state in which Seren and I had our last date together was one of the first to be created, after the founding of Paideia.

Each of these city-states were created with a similar purpose: to reclaim the legendary lands of the Kingdom of Luxacra.

Or, at least, the general public considered it to be legendary. Not me, as I may or may not have visited it once before.

It definitely wasn’t a pleasant visit, that much I could assure you.

Anyway, despite being called a coalition, it was much more permanent than ordinary coalitions. One might even call it an alliance, though I was being generous, if I was honest. It was, after all, a desperate attempt to protect oneself from either the Portisolan Republic, the Luminous States or whichever country controlled the southern end of the pass through the Arxine Mountains.

Over the week between the graduation ceremony and the start of the conference, the main courtyard had been decorated with banners and bunting of all the city-states. Whereas the main hall of the school was transformed into an indoor garden, most of the room was filled with planters with bushes, flowering plants and trees.

“Are you ready?” Eweleanor asked from her seat next to me at the ‘head’ of the table.

Not that the table had a head, since it was a round table, but we were seated closest to the planter-filled dais.

“No,” I replied curtly, but got up and straightened out my simple black dress, regardless.

Not like I had much of a choice.

Eweleanor joined me in getting out of her seat, and we both walked over to the other end of the table, before she nodded to the student standing next to the large doors leading into the main hall. One of the many students that stayed at the school over the summer and had volunteered, for pay, to help out during the conference, opened the door for our guests to enter. The student was but one of many that stayed for the summer, either because their home was too far away to travel back to each summer, because it was too expensive to travel back, or because they simply wanted to make the most of the extra time to study they gained by staying for the summer.

Plenty of students never went home over the six years they attended the school. And often they stayed even after they graduated, to take up positions around here.

Was it entrapment? Probably not, but I wouldn’t deny that we, the school, tended to extend lucrative offers to promising talents to keep them around.

People still sent their children our way, so I supposed it wasn’t really a hindrance for the school’s existence.

“Her Right Honourable Échevine Amarante Desclaux of Rochamont,” the student next to the door announced, pulling me out of my musing on the school’s enrolment and employment policies.

The middle-aged human woman who entered upon her announcement carried herself with a regal posture that seemed ill-fitted to someone elected to her position. Nor was she dressed humbly, as her dress was made of the finest silk one could buy.

She came to a stop in front of Eweleanor and I and gave us a polite nod. “Your Excellencies. Thank you for hosting us this year, and I hope our discussions will be most fruitful.”

“You are most welcome, Your Honour,” Eweleanor greeted politely with a little nod of her own, whilst I ignored the stink-eye I was receiving from Amarante. “I must admit, I am most eager to sample any of your cultured republic’s wines. With the hope you have brought some along, of course.”

Amarante chuckled politely. “I might have brought some along, knowing how appreciated it is across the peninsula. Perhaps we could enjoy a bottle together after today’s discussions have concluded?”

“I am surely tempted,” Eweleanor countered with a polite chuckle of her own, though hers was a bit truer as she did enjoy her occasional wines. “For now, if you could please take your seat so we can keep these procedures going. After all, the sooner we can get started, the sooner we might join that bottle.”

I huffed softly and smirked a little, which drew a scowl from the échevine as she walked past us to her assigned seat. Each seat was denoted by the specific city-state’s banner having been placed behind it.

Eweleanor nudged me, before whispering, “Behave yourself. We need them just as much as they need us, and you know it.”

“His Gace Knez Plamen Kamanović of Gorovidograd,” the student at the door announced, as I internally grumbled but externally school my expression.

The human man in his mid-thirties that entered upon the announcement had taken his attire into a completely different direction from the woman that entered before him, as he was dressed in heavy, ceremonial armour. His golden breastplate was glistening with gemstones; both were dug from the Arxine Mountains that made up the southern flank of Gorovidograd.

“Your Excellencies,” he greeted both Eweleanor and I with a courteous bow, which was honestly a bit excessive as we were of equal standing. “It is such a pleasure to see the both of you once more. Your elegance outshines us all, as usual, Miss Cheviotteau.”

“You are welcome, and the pleasure is all ours, Knez Plamen,” Eweleanor responded with a sharpness that told me she was bristling at being addressed as ‘Miss’ in this setting. And the man’s not so subtle reference to his continuous flirting attempts. “As Diarchs of Paideia, it is our honour to host the members of the coalition, and we will ensure your time here will be as worthwhile as possible.”

Thankfully, he didn’t press his luck and moved to his seat after a small, acknowledging nod.

“His Magnificence Archon Alexandros Pelagidis of Kymaeos,” the student announced the next to enter, following which an elderly human man in fine robes that likened the togas that were worn in the Vesperan Empire way back then. Despite taking confident strides of someone of a regal upbringing, his clothes and demeanour were much more disarming.

“Your Excellencies,” he greeted the both of us with a pleasant smile and a slight nod. “Thank you for honouring us with your hospitality. It is always such a pleasure and delight to come back here, my old stomping grounds as people sometimes refer to it as, I believe? Despite nothing ever really changing, it somehow always feels different. One of these days, you must tell me your secret.”

His words managed to elicit a subdued chuckle from me. “I’m always happy to meet my old student, Alexandros.”

“Indeed, you are most welcome, Your Magnificence,” Eweleanor greeted a bit more properly. “I could tell you the secret to how this might feel different to you each time, but that would make it less of a surprise, now, would it?”

Alexandros chuckled pleasantly. “First of all, I’m not that old yet.” I raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I’m getting on with my age, but I’m not infirm.”

“Yet,” I unhelpfully added quickly for him.

“Compared to you, I’m but a babe,” he countered just as quickly in good nature. “And you are right, Diarch Eweleanor, not knowing how you pull it off each time, is what makes it so pleasant. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe it would be most prudent if I were to take my seat now, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course, Your Magnificence,” Eweleanor said kindly and gestured towards his seat at the table. “It would be our pleasure to catch up at a later occasion.”

As Alexandros made his way to his seat, the student at the door announced the next head of state. “Their Excellency Nasi Noam Ben-Agam of Mazilach.”

The middle-aged human enby crossed the space between the doors and us like an enby on a mission. It would appear they had a score to settle with someone, forgoing any nod or bow or anything of the sorts in their greeting. “Your Excellencies.”

“Your Excellency,” Eweleanor greeted with a polite nod, regardless.

“With that out of the way, I would like to formally protest the inclusion of Morgana in these discussions,” they demanded whilst scowling at me, which… would mean the score they had to settle was with me, wasn’t it? “For centuries this coalition has existed on the basis that all members were equal and equally united in assuring not only our continued sovereignty, but also on the memorial and respect for the deeds of a certain someone in the past. Surely, we are all aware that the reason for this coalition and why we gather every year around the same dates is the very same, no?”

“I do,” Eweleanor said carefully, keeping her gaze steady and stoic. “Though, I can’t speak for the others, I am sure they do as well. After all, it was one of the major events to have happened to the region since the dawn of civilisation.”

They nodded, satisfied. “Then you agree that Morgana’s actions a month ago are a gross violation of the ethos of this coalition?”

“I am afraid, I am unsure of what you mean, Your Excellency,” Eweleanor responded with some amount of confusion. “All I am aware of is that she visited your city for personal reasons. I don’t see how that is in any way a violation of the coalition or its ethos.”

They scowled, before turning their gaze to me and scoffing. “Since when does personal reasons include parading herself around in the colours of her past? She proudly carried herself not as the humbled lich she ought to, but as if she were the rightful owner of these lands. My lands, I might add.”

Eweleanor sighed and shot me a glaring glance. “I can assure you, Your Excellency, that my fellow Diarch meant no harm. She had no ill intentions for dressing the way she did. She was there, I want to state again, for personal reasons. She has as much a right to do so to anyone else in the coalition. However, I am sure she is sympathetic to your plight and is willing to promise to not make such a scene again.”

Both their eyes firmly settled on me, as did those of the three heads of state already seated around the table. So, I unhelpfully shook my head slightly. “I only did what anyone else might have done when going on a date: I dressed up. Nothing wrong with that, now, is there? I was only being myself, what’s wrong with that?”

Fury twisted Noam’s face into an ugly scowl. “Nothing wrong with that!? Nothing wrong with that, she says?! How dare you. How dare you act as if you aren’t the very person who destroyed life on this peninsula? How dare you act as if you’re above us all?”

I let out a huffy breath, which was just as helpful as my earlier shaking of my head. “I didn’t. On both accounts. So, I don’t see what I did wrong here.”

As they sputtered in anger, Eweleanor held up a placating hand. “Let us both calm down for a moment. Morgana may have been a bit… nonchalant in her wording, but she has a point.” Noam made to interrupt in protest, but Eweleanor cut them off. “Just as you have a point that Morgana has had a lot to be responsible for. Responsibilities that ought to weigh heavy on one’s mind and actions.

“Now, I ask you, has she not done so for centuries now?” Eweleanor proposed carefully.

“Not nearly enough,” Noam bit back, to which I scowl back at them.

The tired sheepkin sighed heavily. “Could we at least agree to postpone this discussion to a later date? Just so we can get on with the procedures and that we can get this conference started?”

I shrugged and nodded, as it wasn’t an issue for me. Beyond the furious frustrations I felt at having to, yet again, defend myself. What right did they have?

“…Very well,” Noam reluctantly agreed.

Eweleanor nodded with a finality, and gesture towards their seat, which prompted them to make their way over there whilst stomping their feet.

With the tension momentarily abated, the student next to the door was finally able to announce the last member of the Coalition of the Independent City-states of Umbrea. “Her Eminence Wāliyyah Samira al-Jamalhorn of Mirhadd.”

As they finished their words, the oryxkin woman governing the coalition’s problem child entered the transformed main hall, and the student closed the door behind her. Mirhadd wasn’t a problem child because of its origins, as some might propose, but because their economy was extremely reliant on trade with whichever country controlled the southern end of the only pass through the Arxine Mountains. Which currently was the Perdjeset of Tagseth, or just simply Tagseth as most people called it.

Regardless of who it was that held Mirhadd’s fate in their hands, they always tried to influence their politics and subtly tried to turn them into their client-state.

“Your Excellencies,” Samira greeted with a respectful bow, causing the sides of her hijab to slide down the sides of her face. Up top, the silken headcover was fastened to her horns with simple but elegant decorations. “It is my pleasure to have been invited to this worthy meeting.”

“We welcome you wholeheartedly, Your Eminence,” Eweleanor greeted back with a slight nod. “We are gladdened that you and your illustrious republic are here in attendance. You are a most valued member of the coalition.”

“Thank you, Diarch Eweleanor,” the youngest head of state present said with a soft smile as she straightened herself. “While your words might have been offered out of kindness, I am well aware of our position within the coalition. And I can assure you that I intend to end, or at the least lessen, the involvement of Tagsethi elements. With this in mind, I hope this conference will help us strengthen our trade position in relation to the desert kingdom.”

“We will do what we can to facilitate your hopes and desires for your city-state, Wāliyyah Samira,” Eweleanor offered, which I doubted she could fulfil in the slightest. “In regard to Paideia, we are most appreciative of Mirhaddi traders when it comes to helping us bring our excess supplies to market elsewhere.”

“A subject we will return to down the line, I can assure you,” Samira countered sharply, before promptly making her way to her seat.

Eweleanor let out a heavy breath, before nodding to me and we made our way around the table back to our seats and sat down.

“Well then,” Eweleanor started as she folded her hands in front of her. “Let us open the eight hundred and seventy-fourth conference of the Coalition of the Independent City-states of Umbrea.”

Over the next seven days, they bickered and argued, but in the end, everyone grudgingly agreed that we needed each other.

Just like they did on every other occasion, never quite getting any truly resolved.