Black Knight - Additional Content (Patreon)

This segment was added to the end of chapter 7 for the Royalroad release.

For context, this is in the teahouse that Sir Knight and Acacia were at, just after when the vildt nobleman had exited his office and come to talk to them.

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By the time it is all said and done, they leave several Obols lighter, with a team of soldiers carrying away several loads of exotic tea through the tea-house. The vildt official, now a very impressed man after money has changed hands, watches them intently. “You’ll be sure to return to us soon, yes?” he asks as they go, bowing his head as he lightly grasps the end of Acacia’s outstretched fingers, as is customary for a refined gentleman to do in such negotiations.

Mietze is standing next to the vildt pseudo-nobleman, quietly pocketing the large denomination that Sir Knight tips him with for his help with today’s work.

Acacia smiles politely. “For my next order, I would like to meet under more formal circumstances, Mr. Tatze,” she replies. “I shall bring the rosemary,” she says somewhat nonsensically, observing him.

Quietly, he lifts his gaze, looking at her as if something had surprised him. “...I understand,” he says, composing himself under her careful gaze. “Then I shall be the trobairitz.”

She nods.

Sir Knight watches them as they exchange pleasantries. This odd little spectacle, while sounding like awkward conversational fif-faf, was one of those social passwords from before. It’s one of those phrases that only makes sense when you understand the ins and outs of the situation.

Rosemary has little to do with tea, as rosemary teas are very unpopular. It is commonly used as a seasoning, rather. This is the first layer of knowledge required. There is an entire other layer of folklore and cultural stories that tie in to the giving of rosemary, such as the fact that brides commonly wear wreaths of it during their wedding or that male poets, musicians – troubadours – give it as gifts.

A trobairitz is a female troubadour, which ties into the next layer of the act. The man has purposefully used the wrong title for himself, as using the correct one would mean he didn’t fully understand the game being played.

Acacia ‘lied’ about bringing rosemary to a tea-party, as would be customary for the other, him, to have brought.

The man lied about his title in turn and acted as a receiver rather than the giver, which would be the traditional state of affairs.

To summarize, everything they just said is backwards. It's a needlessly complicated social password that requires a fair bit of obscure, useless knowledge and understanding. As such, it’s the absolutely perfect thing for people to use to elevate themselves above those who aren’t ‘in the know’. The elite love these esoteric games.

Acacia, by engaging in this talk, has confirmed to him that she is a part of the social elite and not just the monetary elite; these are different things. The man, in turn, by responding correctly, has confirmed himself as well, and all of this without catching the eye of the others around them. Although they are too busy watching the soldiers anyway to have noticed what just happened here. This man is going to be their rung on the ladder upward. He's just what they need to finally leave this street and this neighborhood, as charming as it might be.

The two of them turn to leave.

“That tea cost all of our savings,” says Sir Knight, after they’ve left earshot. He looks down at her as they walk. She’s holding on to his arm as they walk for social appearances. “We might actually have to get you that job.”

Acacia strolling with her nose held in the air, as is good form, looks his way out of the side of her eyes. “I’ve already decided on a source of income for myself,” she explains. “Don’t worry.”

“Oh?” asks Sir Knight. "Acrobatics?" he asks, getting elbowed into the side.

“Mhm,” replies Acacia, nodding smugly. "Actually -" She smiles a triumphant smile. “- I’ve decided that if you’re going to live in my home, Sir Knight, that you can pay me rent for my trouble.”

He turns his head her way. “Okay. But I’m going to have to sell the duck to make ends meet this month.”

“You will do no such thing, Sir Knight,” remarks Acacia coldly, who certainly has a bit of noble cruelty in her after all, as they stroll into the darkness of the night that swallows them whole – as if they never were.