A Few minutes passed before the doors of the mansion creaked open.
The terrified guard returned, but he was no longer alone. Behind him walked Governor Forlan, flanked by a personal detail of armored bodyguards whose presence felt more like a display of power than a standard escort. Forlan himself was a man who seemed to occupy more space than his physical frame required, dressed in silks that shimmered even in the overcast light of Rjord.
He approached the gate with a wide smile that did not quite reach the corners of his eyes.
'Ho ho! So very pleasured am I to have the Young Master show up at my residence today!' Forlan exclaimed. His voice boomed with a forced joviality that grated against the stone walls. He gestured with a ring-laden hand, ordering the sentry to open the gate immediately.
As the iron bars slid back, Richard and Wyatt entered the grounds.
'Well then! As my guest, it is my honor and duty to give you a tour of the mansion first, master!'
Forlan moved to step beside Richard, attempting to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with the heir. In the hierarchy of the Duchy, a governor was expected to lead the way or walk a respectful step behind a member of the ruling bloodline. This subtle attempt to claim equal footing did not go unnoticed. Wyatt quickly slid into the space between them. He took Richard's side first, effectively disabling Forlan's attempt.
Wyatt gave a sharp, wordless stare at the Governor. Forlan's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, and he visibly ground his teeth before masking the irritation with another hollow laugh.
The mansion itself was humongous, a sprawling complex that spoke of immense wealth channeled into stone and mortar. The main gate opened onto a stone path that stretched in a perfectly straight line toward the grand entrance of the house. On either side of this path, meticulously maintained gardens filled the air with a scent that felt out of place in the cold mountain climate.
'These gardens have more than a thousand varieties of plants and flowers, master,' Forlan said, his voice turning boastful. 'These have been picked individually from various parts of the continent. Truly perfection at its best, Ho Ho Ho!'
The Governor started talking about the structure of the garden. He detailed the specific provinces from which the plants were taken, their botanical names and the supposed medicinal advantages.
Wyatt bent down slightly to whisper into Richard's ear. 'Sir, this guy...'
Richard interrupted him before the commander could finish the thought. 'I know. Just try to bear it.'
Both of them released a quiet, synchronized sigh. Forlan's personality was proving to be more taxing than the early morning walk from the manor.
'Is something wrong, master?' Forlan asked, pausing his lecture on a rare species of herbs.
'No. Please continue,' Richard answered.
A lot of relentless babbling later, Forlan finally led them through the front doors and into the household. Upon first glance, the interior designs were striking. The patterns on the walls and the specific palette of colors looked remarkably similar to those found in Richard's father's manor.
Forlan described the interior as the "perfect residence for a governor of his potential and talent". Despite the opulence, there was nothing that actually stood out to Richard as a clue.
In the middle of his monologue, Forlan finally turned the conversation toward the purpose of the visit. 'What brought you here today, master? And how many days do you plan on staying? I will make the necessary arrangements accordingly.'
Richard ignored the first question entirely, offering no explanation for his sudden appearance in Rjord. 'Six days. I will stay here for six days.'
Forlan raised a brow, 'Six days? Why so specific?'
'I have made plans in advance,' Richard answered quickly. He offered no further detail.
'I see,' Forlan said. He seemed to have accepted the answer, though his eyes remained speculative. 'Well then, I guess you are tired, and you need to rest after traveling so far. I should not be holding you up like this, master.'
Forlan turned and whispered a series of instructions to a nearby attendant. The servant bowed and stepped forward.
'I have told him to give you the best room available,' Forlan said, turning back to Richard. 'Also, if you want, I can send your meals to your room. It's your call.'
'Yes, that would be great,' Richard replied immediately.
The attendant led them away from the grand hall, navigating corridors that felt cold despite the countless torches placed in the walls. Once they reached the guest suite and the attendant had withdrawn, Wyatt closed the door and began a sweep of the room.
'Young Master, I am certain there is something wrong with him,' Wyatt said in a low voice.
Richard sat on the edge of the bed. 'That is just his personality, Wyatt. I don't think we should be judging him based on that.'
'No, Young Master. That is not what I mean.' Wyatt stepped closer. 'He wasn't like this when he took the eligibility test. Not even close.'
'An eligibility test? What is that?' Richard questioned.
Wyatt wiped the sweat from his forehead. 'It is a test important individuals like governors and mayors must pass under the direct supervision of the Duke. All the commanders of the army are active judges. We vote for the ultimate decision: whether the individual is worthy of the position.'
'How does the test work?' Richard asked.
'It is divided into parts,' Wyatt explained. 'Decision-making and negotiation are the skills we look for, along with management. They are given scenarios and face written examinations. I was physically present for every part of Forlan's test. I was raised here in Rjord, and refused to let my home fall into incapable hands.'
Wyatt stopped talking and looked Richard dead in the eye.
'Back then, I found him careless and rude. He was blunt, almost to a fault. But now?' Wyatt gestured vaguely toward the door, toward the hallway where Forlan's laughter still seemed to echo. 'He is nothing like his earlier self. A man can learn manners, Young Master. He can learn to bow. But this? This level of oily cheerfulness? It is a total transformation.'
'Are you sure he has changed that much?' Richard asked.
'As I said, Young Master, I am certain. It is like looking at a different man wearing Forlan's skin'
'Anyhow, we have no proof of him being an impostor at the moment,' Richard stated.
'I guess you're right,' Wyatt accepted.
--
The next four days slipped by in a flurry.
Richard and Wyatt spent most of their time moving through the mansion, walking its corridors again and again until the layout settled firmly into memory.
The interior was a maze of granite and dark wood. A central corridor, broad enough for ten men to walk abreast, stretched across the main floor. Every passage, every side hall, every narrow service route was noted. Exits were counted. Shortcuts marked. No detail felt too minor to remember.
Despite the estate's wealth, the place felt hollow. The staff--maids, cooks, errand boys--drifted through the halls like wraiths. When Richard or Wyatt passed, they pressed themselves flat against the stone, eyes lowered, refusing greetings and pretending not to notice anyone at all.
That changed the instant Forlan appeared.
Servants would stiffen at once. Voices rose. Bows followed. Movement returned, sharp and eager, as though a switch had been turned on. The contrast was impossible to miss.
Richard noticed something else as well.
Between the formal ballroom and the governor's private study stood a pair of reinforced oak doors. Unlike the library or the armory, which saw only sparse oversight, this section was watched heavily. Guards stood shoulder to shoulder and were highly attentive.
Everything seemed suspicious, and Richard wanted to dig deeper into it, but he maintained his composure.
On the fifth day, the opening Richard had been watching for at last presented itself.
---