Oliver treaded his way down the steps to embrace his sister who met him half way. Oliver looked her up and down, his grin growing wider within those few moments that he did. In contrast, Noesse seemed uncomfortable. "Noesse! You look well! Are you..." He uttered fearfully.
"Yes, Oliver. I am clean."
"Thank the goddess!" He exclaimed with a big hug. "What are you wearing, as well? What is this? I have never seen such a dress. It is foreign?"
"All right, all right. Enough..."
"Forgive me..." He chuckled.
All the while, a few of his female relatives had approached Erik "You are very handsome. Are you a knight?" A young lady asked.
"Such a cleanly shaven and strong jawline. To which family do you come from? Asked one of his aunts.
Erik stood over them by more than a head's length. He was among the tallest of the men present, almost at Oliver's height and equal to at least two others.
"This place has not changed in all these years." Erik said, much to the surprise of those who'd heard him.
"Oh?"
Erik looked to his brother, Oliver, who at that moment, just as Noesse had finished whispering to him, turned to look at him with widely opened eyes.
"Are you sure?" Oliver asked Noesse with hushed voice.
"It is him, Oliver. He has his crest. Besides that... Just look at his eyes. When have you ever seen such blue eyes before?"
Oliver, Noesse, and Erik would all come to speak to one another in a private room, where they would not be disturbed. It was office of the Duke.
"Sit where you would like." Oliver said as he made his way to his desk, walking past the sofa and table at the center of the room.
Erik scanned the room as he and his sister sat down on the sofa. Oliver rummaged through his desk drawers.
"The office hasn't changed."
"Yes..." Said Oliver. "I saw no reason to."
"He was a well organized man."
"Indeed, he was." Oliver took out a thick and heavy parcel wrapped in paper, and tied together by a string. He lifted it up, only to place it down on top of the desk. "If, you truly are, my brother..." He uttered, slapping his hand upon the parcel. "...You will take this, and you will leave."
"Oliver!" Noesse hissed.
"I have my reasons, Noesse. Understand, that regardless of who you are, whether you are my brother or not, that is not a name you should carry upon your shoulders. That name will only bring you trouble. Abandon it. Take this parcel, it will offer you a new life. A new identity, land, and some silver to start anew."
The room fell silent, accompanied by the loudness of the two's dignified stares at one another. Moments passed until finally Erik chuckled. "You have grown a spine, brother."
"Hold your tongue." Oliver hissed.
"Keep yourself, brother." Erik glared back. "I see the worries you have for me, for your younger brother."
"I am not certain whether you are truly who you say you are. Perhaps you are a monster in disguise, a figment of my imagination, a specter. I have seen the wonders of magic, so truly, anything is possible."
"A quote by the Archmage, Crindor Beck. It is simple. Ask me anything that only your brother would know."
"Yes, that is reasonable." Oliver nodded as he took his seat next to Noesse. He pondered what to ask, coming to a few possible questions before eventually deciding on one after a few moments. "How did you lose your virginity?"
"Wha? Oliver!?" Noesse blushed.
"It is a valid question!" Oliver defended himself.
"The day I left for war, I seduced Nomay."
"You what?" Noesse exclaimed.
"You truly are my brother." Oliver muttered with solemness. "It is true, Noesse. I only know, because Nomay told father, weeks after it had happened and she realized she was with child. At the time, the events of the war were resulting in the collapse and bullying of our family, and he knew that if word were to get out that Erik had left a child, the theocracy would surely take it. Only three people knew, as he told mother, who eventually told me when I ascended to patriarch and father was killed. We kept it secret so Nomay and the child would survive. They both live in Yarl'haven."
"Yarl'haven?" Upon hearing that, Erik took out a scroll from his coat, a pocket on the right side. It was not merely a parchment, nor was it even made of paper. It was unique, a perfectly cut scroll made from leather. It was black and resembled paper very closely on one side, the side at which Erik wrote hastily.
"What are you doing?" Oliver asked.
"I am relaying orders to my subordinate. This is a means of communication. Made from the flesh of a wyvern, whatever I write on here will appear on the other scroll, cut from the same tissue."
"It is magic?"
"Yes."
"Fascinating."
Erik finished relaying his orders to Chester who was working on paperwork back at the manner. The scroll he kept on himself he unraveled to read: 'Urgently relay, Third Battalion, halt siege upon Yarl'haven.'
"Erik, my stance remains the same. Take the money and go start a new life with your child. Under any other circumstances, I'd have thrown a banquet in your honor to welcome you back, but if word of your return were to get out, the theocracy would hunt you down."
"Brother, understand my stance. I have returned to avenge our father, uphold our family's honor, claim Highland for my own, and behead the traitorous king."
Oliver could feel his veins tighten and his blood stifle. Oliver stood up and made his way to the door. "You speak of treason!" He hissed, peaking out the door to see if anyone were listening in.
"It is not treason, as I do not wave any flag other than Innah'vadah's."
"Innah'vakah's?!"
"Innah'vadah." He emphasized. "Now is not the time to discuss this." Erik took out an envelope from his outer coat pocket. "This, is an invitation to my manor. I invite the entire palace to come. Cousins and all. It will be a banquet held in two days time. It will begin upon evening." He said so robotically as he stood up to leave.
"A banquet?!" Oliver growled upon his feet. "Is that all? You would leave as such? What of mother? Would you not want to see her?"
"Now is not the time, brother. All will be explained. You two are my elder siblings. I suggest you decide whose side you will stand by. Your own blood, with swords and honor, or that of a false king, where you will kneel before the corrupt. Sister, you will stay here. I will leave my carriage with you."
"How will you return?"
"I shall be fine."
Back at this manor in the city, a few families had sent carriages and guards to investigate the identity of the man responsible for beating the young nobles of their houses. They would tread no further than the gate and would be met by none other than Chester, who remained on the other side of the locked metal gate. "Greetings. I am Chester Brendolf, the current butler and steward of this residence. I am afraid the manorlord is vacant at this moment. Perhaps I can take a letter?"
There were four families in total, with over a dozen guards wearing thick coats and sheathed swords on their sides. They wore the emblems of their respective houses, and the one guard who stepped forward to speak to Chester wore the emblem of House Tyran. "What is the identity of the manorlord?" He asked with a softly spoken voice.
"I am afraid I am not at liberty to discuss, however! I may offer you the house at which the manorlord is apart of."
"And which house might that be?"
"House Chamber."
The guards eyes narrowed.
"Ahh! Fuck!" Screamed another of a different house. "So they are sided with the Chambers or they are a bloody Chamber. Either way, that makes a whole fuckin mess of things."
"Enough!" The first guard raised his voice. "Chester, was it?"
"Yes, that is correct."
He sighed. "Have you heard anything of the events that transpired at the Gospel Hotel?"
"Oh? I am afraid I have not."
From the way Chester smiled, the guard was not inclined to believe him, but he was but a mere guard.
Another group of guards turned to leave. "There is no point to this." One of them said. "If a Chamber is involved, this is a dispute the master will have to handle on his own."
The others agreed and turned around to board their carriages, leaving nothing but dust in their wake as Chester walked back down the cobblestone path to the manor. He made his way to the dining room, where Erik was having his meal. Next to his was another meal.
"Sit." Erik told him.
"Yes, my lord." At which Chester did as told. He then picked up the utensils and dug into the meal. The room was quiet, dimly lit by only a few candles. There was no sense of decoration, not even a cloth to cover the table. It lacked a wife's touch, indeed, but it served its purpose.
"What have you found?"
"Much, my lord. The extensive records I have managed to get ahold of all portray the crimes committed by them in ink. Their seals are more than apparent on half of them."
"Good. Now we have them by their collars."
"Yes, my lord, and to those who I found zero crimes connected to them, we should be more than able to persuade if we tug at their finances, which I have managed to arrange for a couple of them. Which, leads me to ask you, my lord. How shall I treat them?"
Erik downed his glass, lightly setting it on the table and only answering up pouring himself another cup with a satisfying exhale. "Have you ever read the Jester Prince?"
Chester's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "By your order, my lord."
The day of the banquet, it was the whole of the estate that was erect in celebration. "Welcome! Welcome! Take a complimentary bottle!" Chester told each and every guest as they joined the banquet.
Hundreds of bottles of alcohol, wine and ale alike, were given out by the arm full. No guest who wanted to drink was without one.
Carriages were left waiting on the lawn in a jigsaw puzzle of awaiting horses. One lustful couple could even be seen shagging in the bushes, just outside the manor at the corner of the first turn. In their drunkenness, they had no awareness or shame, as the man and lady both grunted and moaned without regard.
"My, my... How perverse."
Ladies dressed in poofy dressed and heavy makeup. Men dressed in brightly colored suits and wore fancy swords on their hips, mere decoration.
Those who did not, were clearly of the underclass, with darker clothing, low quality fabric, scarred faces, and unkept facial hair. The contrast was obvious, leading to some squabbles between groups.
"Who let this dirty rat in here?" A tall, distinguished young noble hollered in the midst of the dance hall.
"What did this slop just say to me?" Responded the target of the insult, an older gentleman wearing a brown trench coat. He stepped closer to the young noble, the scent of his greasy hair prompting the young man to cover his nostrils in pulling away.
"By the goddess, you smell like the underside of a hog's pits." He waved away the stench.
The majority of the guests joined the dance hall, which was vast enough to fit hundreds of guests, with room to spare. Of course, the whereabouts of the host was on everyone's mind. By custom, the table within the celebratory hall would be set, with a higher chair raised above the others, to indicate the seat of the host. However, not just was the host's seat vacant, but as were all of the other seats by its side. No one knew even the purpose of the banquet, leaving many confused. Of course, rumors to the name and identity of the host had spread like air in a vacuum.
The members of house Chamber were the target of many looks once they joined the banquet. Noesse had arrived with Oliver and his wife, rather late into the evening.
"Welcome, your highness." Welcomed Chester, before nodding to Noesse. "Madam."
Oliver continued walking with his wife, while Noesse straggled behind. "Yes... Chester, was it?" Noesse asked.
"Indeed. The main venue will be taking place right through that door, down to the dance hall. I had been greeting guests all this time, but now that you have arrived, I shall accompany you in servitude, madam."
"I see..." Noesse remained looking at him, walking ahead while he abandoned the front door to follow.
"Are you nervous, madam?"
"I find it rather strange you are calling me madam, in all honesty, and not lady. That is my title."
"It, was, madam. You are now of a higher standing. I would offer my advice to you... Raise your chin. As far as anyone should be concerned, you are the master of this estate, second only to your brother. Allow your arrogance and audacity to run wild. I shall support you."
"What is it that you expect me to do?"
"Whatever you please. Here, you are untouchable, I can guarantee you that."
Oliver was surrounded by noblemen, all asking him about his familial connection with the host and owner of the estate. "Gentlemen, gentlemen. I am sure you are aware, but my brother, died a long time ago. I can assure you that I have retainers investigating the matter of these rumors, and I will provide you with reasonable explanations once the truth is uncovered." A rehearsed response coupled with a fake smile. Oliver was never that good at deception.
Noesse, however, was unrecognizable to many. Her appearance had made a drastic change in only a few days. Her changes were minor, yet many. The dark circles under her eyes had lightened up, her hair and skin, washed and cared for, now glistened in the light. Still, she was awfully frail. She remained cold and aloof, warding off many men who thought to approach her. Of course, many could not keep their eyes off of her, as her dress was nearly a polar opposite of that which the other women wore. Her dress was elegant and modest, yet showed off her figure much to the enticement of wayward eyes.
She felt out of place among so many people and so much noise, and at the mere sight of a glass of wine, her face wrinkled in disgust. No longer could she stomach the thought of drinking. They had found their way to the center most dance hall of the manor, where Noesse slowly made her way through the hall. As she approached the host's table, many began to notice her. Oliver tried his best to stay close to her, calling out to her upon realizing what she was doing. "Noesse!" He hissed under stifled breath.
Noesse could not be bothered. She was like a puppet, being dragged ahead by her strings. Still, it was her own decision to support her brother, choosing the option that he had laid out to her.
She took her seat, second to the host's. The room fell noticeably quieter.
At one of the other tables, raised a softly scowling man in white, clerical robes. "Denique, tandem." He uttered.
Chester had remained following his master's sister, and upon her taking her seat, he, who stood ahead of the table, introduced her in a raised voice. "Ahem..." He cleared his throat in announcing with an emboldened voice. "I announce the presence of the first of the royal family of Chamber, her royal highness, Princess of Innah'vadah and First Sister to Lord Fall, Madam Noesse Delia Chamber!"
All heads had been turned. All voices silenced, and all eyes widened. Noesse sunk into her seat, as she too had been left stunned. She was embarrassed, but as Chester turned his gaze to her and the two locked eyes, him, giving her a cold look, she, with stifled breath, raised back up in her seat in fixing her posture. His words echoed in her mind. She coughed in her closed mouth, licked her lips, fixed her hair, composed her breathing, and raised her chin, all within moments.