Ride to South

Viscount Harold Everhart sat gloomily in the carriage, staring out the small, rain-streaked window at the passing countryside. The once-proud noble, who had imagined himself riding at the head of a royal army or at least commanding a logistics troop in the ongoing war effort against Duke Cedric, now found himself with a far less prestigious assignment. The royal commission had been clear: he was to be sent to the southern territory of House Grafton, tasked with overseeing the young acting duke, Edward Grafton, and pressuring him to supply more resources for the war.

Harold's initial hope of regaining his lost status in the kingdom had been dashed. Instead of the battlefield, he was being relegated to what felt like a bureaucratic errand. But the reality of the kingdom's dire situation was inescapable. The Queen had made it clear that she needed eyes and ears across the land, especially among the nobility who had chosen to remain neutral. Displaced nobles like Harold were being strategically placed in the territories of allied or neutral lords, both to keep them busy and to ensure that the Royal House stayed informed.

As the carriage rolled southward, Harold couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. He had once been a man of the North, familiar with its cold winds, dense forests, and towering mountains. Now, he was being sent far from home to a land he knew little about, to serve a young duke he had never met.

The journey took him through a landscape that gradually shifted from the rugged terrain of the northern reaches to the more temperate and lush lands of the south. Here, the roads were smoother, and the fields stretched wide under a gentle sun. Yet, for all the beauty around him, Harold's mood remained dark.

In this era, many lords built their castles in easily defensible locations—whether on cliffs, atop hills, or surrounded by water—as protection against bandits, rebellions, and the covetous eyes of neighboring lords. House Grafton was no different, and as Harold's carriage approached their stronghold, he was greeted with a sight unlike any he had ever seen.

Before him lay a vast, shimmering lake, its surface as smooth as glass and reflecting the deep blues of the sky above. In the middle of this lake, on a large island, stood the imposing Castle Aurelian, named after an ancient hero of House Grafton. The castle's gray stone walls rose majestically from the water, topped with sharp, crenellated towers that seemed to pierce the heavens.

The only way to reach the island was by crossing a massive floating bridge that connected the shore to the castle gates. This bridge, Harold noticed, was no ordinary structure. It was a marvel of engineering, constructed from specially designed boats linked together with heavy chains. In case of an enemy attack, the bridge could be quickly dismantled, isolating the castle and preventing any crossing. The sight was both intimidating and awe-inspiring.

As the carriage rattled onto the floating bridge, Harold felt the subtle sway of the boats beneath him. The castle loomed larger and larger as they approached, its massive iron gates flanked by vigilant guards bearing the crest of House Grafton—a fierce lion with a sword, symbolizing their martial prowess.

Once across the bridge, the carriage passed through the castle gates and into a wide courtyard. Servants and soldiers bustled about, attending to their duties, but Harold barely noticed them. His mind was already turning over the task ahead. He was confident that it would be easy to extract the necessary supplies from the young acting duke. After all, what resistance could a mere boy offer to a seasoned noble like himself?

As the carriage came to a stop and the door was opened for him, Harold stepped out, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Castle Aurelian was a fortress of stone and steel, but to Harold, it represented something far more important—a chance to restore his standing in the kingdom and perhaps, just perhaps, to exact his revenge on Duke Cedric.

With that thought in mind, he straightened his posture and began to make his way towards the castle's grand hall, ready to meet the young Duke Edward Grafton and begin his mission. Little did he know that the task ahead would be anything but simple.

—

Edward and Elara walked side by side through the garden, the vibrant colors of late summer surrounding them. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of bees, creating a serene atmosphere.

Edward glanced at Elara, noticing how much more at ease she seemed around him lately.

"I'm glad you're more comfortable with me now, Elara," Edward said, breaking the silence. There was no need for formalities between them, not here in the quiet of the garden.

Elara smiled softly. "It's taken me a while, but I've always felt safe here, ever since the Old Duke took me in. I was just a child then, an orphan with nowhere to go. He gave me a home, a family."

Edward listened; his expression thoughtful. He had heard bits and pieces of Elara's past but never in such a straightforward way.

"He was a legend to me," Elara continued, her eyes drifting to the towering walls of Castle Aurelian in the distance. "Before him, House Grafton was just a Barony. But with his valor, he raised it to the Dukedom it is today. I grew up on stories of his deeds, the battles he fought, the respect he commanded. To me, he was larger than life."

Edward nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "He was a great man," he agreed. "Castle Aurelian stands as a testament to that. Named after our ancestor, the hero Aurelian, it feels like a place where legends are born, doesn't it?"

"It does," Elara said, her smile widening. "I used to imagine what it would be like to live in such a grand place, and now here I am, part of it."

They shared a light laugh, the kind that came easily between friends. For a moment, they were just two people enjoying each other's company, free from the burdens of their roles.

As they continued their walk, they joked about the quirks of the castle staff, the eccentricities of some of the older knights, and even the stubbornness of the castle's horses. The conversation was light and playful, a brief respite from the weight of their responsibilities.

Their moment was interrupted by the approach of Baron Lucien, his steps quick and purposeful. He bowed respectfully before addressing Edward. "My Lord, a royal envoy has arrived and requests an audience with you."

Edward, still caught in the lightness of their conversation, waved a hand dismissively. "Tell them to wait a bit, Lucien. No need to rush."

Lucien hesitated only briefly before nodding. "As you wish, my Lord." He turned and walked away, leaving Edward and Elara to continue their stroll.

Edward turned to Elara, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Shall we head back to the office, then? I suppose we shouldn't keep them waiting too long."

Elara, ever the dutiful maid, nodded with a smile. "Of course, my Lord." She fell into step beside him as they made their way back to the castle, ready to assist him with whatever the day demanded.

As they walked, Edward couldn't help but feel a deepening connection to Elara. It was moments like these, amidst the simplicity of everyday life, that reminded him of the bonds that truly mattered.