Hohenfels

Jerzy Nowak was beyond elated. Not only was his favorite student much more receptive than he had dared hope for – no, said student had also inadvertently proven a theory Jerzy had developed over the course of two long decades.

The old ways were still alive among the Eastern nobility.

It was supremely rare for the words of a baptized and confirmed Christian to reach the ears of the Old Gods. It was impossible for one to succeed on the first attempt. Prince Arnold von Hohenfels, heir to the margraviate and brother of a Paladin, was born and raised a heathen.

Oh, he couldn’t wait to see the face of his grumpy old mentor hearing those news. Though, on second thought, it was probably better to hold off on spreading that particular piece of information. The Prince certainly did not seem keen on sharing it, and drawing his ire would be… suboptimal. At least for a while.

Still, Jerzy found it difficult to contain his curiosity. If Arnold lacked the unimaginative, standardized Foundation of the Imperial aristocracy, what was his magic based on? It certainly wasn’t druidic in nature – the shaman’s own Heartroot would have been able to detect as much.

‘Hohenfels… Hohenfels…’ The Professor only vaguely recalled what little he knew about that House’s history. Perhaps the academy’s library had a genealogy or something similarly useful. He would need it to get an idea of what he was dealing with, since he would have to revise his entire teaching strategy.

= = = = =

Klara stared down at the terrified young lady in the dirt, and suddenly realized with a lurching heart just how badly she had messed up once more.

Despite everything, Katharina was still a high noble. Johanna had once summarized a terribly boring politics lesson in a short sentence: ‘If a House’s name is on the map of the Empire, it is important.’