Ch.14

The Chamber's carriage rode along a stone brick street in the far-off city of Delwin, in the Dukedom of Cezarch; their familial homeland.

A far-off mountain overlooked the landscape, and smoke coming from chimneys stained the air while also fending off the cold.

Erik was now a dashing young boy at twleve tears of age, and now more experienced and comfortable with his surroundings, which made him less paranoid, but otherwise, he was still the same as ever with that constant bored expression.

He was adorable to women and handsome to young girls, a true heart striker in the making only because he was such a sanitary neat freak.

The carriage smoothly rode down the street to a great castle and old medieval castle adorning many crests of the Chamber dynasty upon flags.

He and his whole family were all dressed in preparation for attending the banquet held in the Palace of Delwin.

The event was lavish, to say the least, with men and women feasting upon dishes of food and barrels of wine and ale. It was quick to get out of hand, with modesty being left behind the moment they picked up their metal tankards to drink.

Sword fights broke out among men outside, wealth and land were gambled at tables, favors ensued, and bards played music until the dead of night.

Erik felt out of place at the party, instead opting to find recluse in a far-off room where the noise didn't disturb him from reading.

The inside of the castle was different from his own home. There had been renovations to maintain the castle, but overall, it still held its history, being an old castle from a different era.

Erik read with only the moonlight peering in through the window to light the pages of his book, but his reading was interrupted by the abrupt sound of banging and the giggle of a woman.

He could tell that it was a man and a woman who'd intentionally wandered off to fuck in private, tipsy from the alcohol and brimming with lust.

It didn't take long after the heavy sound of the door slamming shut in the next room for the muffled moans of a woman to cry out from the other side of the wall.

Erik snapped his book shut and go up to leave, taking in a breath of air and exhaling as if to control his own rising lust, clicking his tongue as he turned away.

He turned the corner of the hall, and as he proceeded down it, Oliver came into view.

"Erik! There you are!" He gleefully called out as he ran over. He wiped away the beading sweat on his forehead as he grabbed Erik's shoulder and leaned down to catch his breath.

Oliver had grown to be rather tall, but his build was still that of a lightweight.

"Erik, our grandfather wants to meet you..." He gasped for air. "Just... Follow me..."

In all his twelve years of life in this world, he had never met his grandfather on his father's side; not even a letter or gift. Erik had no contact with his grandfather, the Duke of Cezarch, which was understandable. The Duke had many grandchildren and was not as caring a man as Erik's Grandfather Henry when it came to familial ties.

Oliver led him to a room near the party, the scent of alcohol carrying heavy on the air. The two had to hug against the wall as they made their way past a woman stumbling through the hall.

A butler was standing at the door to the room, opening it as the two young men approached.

Inside sat their father, Vindor, along with five other men.

"Erik, you're finally here. Come, sit. Introduce yourself to your grandfather." Vindor said, tankard in hand.

The oldest of the men sat closest to the crackling fireplace. His hair was grey, but he was well built, and could easily measure in size to two average men. He was the Duke of Cezarch, Gendal Chamber. The rest of the men were his sons, Vindor's brothers, and Erik's uncles.

Erik approached his grandfather and introduced himself with a calm demeanor, unbefitting for a child his age. "It is nice to meet you, grandfather. I am Erik."

The old duke snickered momentarily and dryly, hardly an impression on his stone expression as he raised his tankard for another drink. "How many times you have him practice that, Vindor?"

"None, father. It is simply how he is. He is rather smart and polite."

"Is that so?" His eyes glanced back to Erik. "I hear you are in school, boy. Top of your class. What have you learned?"

"I have learned much, grandfather. Mathematics, language, swordsmanship, history, religion, economics-"

"All of that, you say?" The old duke chuckled. "Quite a lot to learn for a boy your age. And what exactly is it that you plan to do when you grow up? Learning all that. A steward? Chancellor? Or will you join the clergy?"

"I wish to govern, grandfather."

His answer made the old duke raise an eyebrow at him, even his father and uncles were surprised by his answer.

"Govern? Baron?"

"No, grandfather. I want to be a count, at least."

"A count? Hmph. Through inheritance, that is unlikely. Your father won't inherit that much land, and when he passes, you too, will not inherit much from him. How exactly will you become a count?"

"Perhaps you could give me that land, grandfather."

"Erik!!" His father shouted from behind.

"Hahaha!! So young, but his balls are already coming out!" His uncle jested, hardly able to control himself in his drunken state.

Even his grandfather, the old duke seemed amused by his response, a wry grin on his face that showed his terribly yellow and crooked teeth.

"Give it to you? Very well, boy. In exchange, you won't complain about the marriage I have arranged."

"...I won't."

"Good. Study well, prove you are capable of governing your own bit of land, and I will very well grant you a town. Depending on how well you do, you might get more."

"Thank you, grandfather. I will study well."

"Now run along, boy."

His father grabbed his hand as he made his way out, his face red from the ale he'd been drinking. "Erik, go find your mother. Have her put you to bed."

"I will, father."

"Good boy." He smiled, letting go of his hand as he took another swish.

The entire time, Erik maintained his bored look, but the moment the door shut behind him, the ecstasy he felt overflowed into his own grin. Sadly, however, misfortune would keep his prize from his hand because of the war that would be waged in two years' time.

From the north, an emissary was sent to inform the king, no, to threaten the king into submission.

He was a bishop, a priest of the Holy Serudine Theocracy garbed in white fur and fancy robes.

He marched into the king's castle with humble arrogance, and he relayed to the king. "Your majesty. I come on behalf of his holy highness, the three saints of the Holy Church of Seraph, and her o'blessedness. I shall be brief, you are to renounce the Clergy of Fadferist and convert to her righteous path. If not, we will have no choice but to wage holy war to cast out the sinners."

The Church of Seraph's influence stretched far and wide. Their believers were plenty, but their control not nearly as much.

The King of Highland was stubborn, and outright in fury, cast the bishop out.

Ultimately, war was waged, and in the coming years, a defense was put up to the northern border, with the kingdom's men being drafted into the war in defense of the kingdom.

At the age of fifteen, the age boys were considered full-grown adults, his family received the letter of his enlistment.

"No... No... No... No!!" His mother cried tears of despair for him, hardly able to keep herself together even though this was the third time, after her husband and Oliver.

Still, Erik showed no emotion, not a care for his enlistment, nor empathy for his mother crying against his chest.

"Erik... My darling boy..." She wept, tears soaking into his shirt.

She was not the only one saddened by the news, as Noesse and the maids were all unable to refrain from feeling the burden she felt.

Erik placed his hand on his mother's head and attempted to calm her. "Mother. I will be fine."

It took an hour for her to fall asleep that evening, having worn herself out, he carried her to the bed.

He returned to the den where he'd left the letter.

"Young master..." Nomay called out from the door, a small cake in hand. "I know this is not the bestest of times, but it is still your birthday."

She placed the cake on the coffee table and began to slice a piece.

She was a comely and modest woman, always dressed in her maid uniform which showed no unnecessary skin, and her long dark hair was always kept in a neat bun.

He stared at her, his gaze running along her body, from curve to curve, to her solemn frown. She looked as if she were on the verge of tears.

"Nomay..." He called out to her softly. "Are you saddened by me leaving for the battlefield?"

"Oh... Yes... It is disheartening. You are so young, and a battlefield is a terrible place."

"The fact that they are forcing me to join the war, the very day I become a man, means the war is not going in the kingdom's favor. The crown is pushing for all able men they can muster. They are desperate. Casualties are Highland's side is most likely high."

Nomay clutched the knife tighter, a tense and uneasy expression on her face. She placed the knife down and turned, only to realize that he was standing right next to her.

He had grown tall, taller than her, and his chest too had become wider in what seemed like such a short amount of time.

He wrapped one arm around her and lifted up her chin, forcing a kiss onto her.

She resisted hesitantly at first but ultimately gave in.

For the night and its entirety, in a guest room at the farthest corner of the manor, the two spent a restless night together.

Their bodies, drenched in sweat, glistened in the faint moonlight, and the windows fogged up from the heat. Her soft moans tempted him like nectar to the ear, which only further tempted him, giving rise to his vigor.

He had lost himself in his instinct and lust, not even minding the way his skin stuck to hers, nor the scent of sweat or the taste of her saliva.

By morning, she would find him gone as he had already left for the war. The thin sheets were still damp from their bodily fluids.