The Rise Of A New Dynasty.

Dennis flopped on the bed after he received the lecture from Diane, his mind in turmoil. The source of illumination In his room dimmed even less brightly now, the flickering flame causing the candle wax to melt on the bedside table beside the bed, forming an overly grotesque puddle on the wooden structure. "Diane, do you truly think that such a barbaric act would be of my own choosing?" He soliloquised, as he glanced at his open palm, which he held out before him. He did not wish to, but in such perilous times, what could he have possible done? And he doubted if he could actually fall for someone that easily. He would be unsure if it was actually pity, or sympathy. A warm liquid trickled from the corner of his eyes. "How surprising." He muttered to himself, after brushing them away from the source which they came from. He stood up from the bed he was lain, pacing around the room for some time. The events of today was nothing more than a crude shock to him, as well. 'I cannot bring myself to fanthom what Diane was doing with that man.' He thought, while running his fingers through his Hair. At certain points In his life, he had begun to wonder if he actually knew his siblings as much as he thought he did- especially in Diane's cause. He would not have as much believed in the tale of which the certain man spun- if he had not witnessed for himself the way he held her comfortably in his arms, not even mentioning the fact that his sister's horse was actually within his custody. "But Diane has never before be acquainted with any man- save for the one whom she is bound to be betrothed to." He whispered, all the while biting the finger of his thumb. "How are you so certain that every time she snuck out of the manor; it was not but to see me?" That statement reverberated in his hearing. He could also almost envison the man seating on his bed before him, with a smile full of confidence. In a fit of anger, he flung the half- burnt candle across the room, which made quite the ruckus as it clattered through, throwing the man into darkness. Fortunately, it had already waxed dim, if that was not the case, the first item to have been set ablaze would be that exquisite carpet of his. He let out a low sigh, before lying on his bed once more, his head feeling heavy. "The duke rejected my propositions, despite the numerous benefits I offered to him- that arrogant bastard." Dennis muttered angrily. It was well bound within his intentions to cause Diane to be engaged with the duke of the northern district, which was, in his own perspective, a much better alternative than the lout their father had initially set her up with. If only things had progressed in his favor...

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 "Young Master?" A knock on the door interrupted Dennis's slumber. Although he did not want to, he performed his actions with a low groan. He carefully crept off from his bed, the sleep still making his eyes to appear hazy. It was only because the voice which called out to him so happened to be familiar; if not, he would Have told the maid off. "Young Master.." The knock came once more. "I am coming." Dennis finally had the energy to mutter in response, before finally unbolting the latch. "Dorothy." He mumured lightly, as he saw the individual who stood upon his threshold. "What brings you here, so early in the morning?" Dorothy on the other hand, gave a light gasp, before seizing Dennis by the hand. "What are you?" He began, but the Maid had already ushered him to seat on the bed. "Young Master, are you alright?" She inquired, as she glanced at him worriedly. "Why wouldn't I be?" Dennis interrogated In turn, a perplexed expression on his face. Dorothy held his face warmly. "Your eyes.. appear a bit sunken." She simply said, as she recoiled lightly. "Are they now?" Dennis mused with a smile, as he rubbed at his eyes. He was not in anyway offended by Dorothy's gesture- she had raised him as though she was her own child, afterall. And also, of all the maids In this household, Dorothy was the one who had warranted the trust of Myla, his late mother. "Oh, would you just look at me- I lost sense of what it was that I came here for." Dorothy stated, as she rose up To her feet once more. "You should hurry and get prepared- The lord intends to perform some negotiations with the Household of Adriel, and your presence is highly needed." Dennis widened his eyes momentarily. Was the issue not already taken care of. "But.." Dennis hurriedly rose up To his feet, when he noticed that Dorothy was about to depart. "Father informed me of no such thing." He added. Dorothy threw a glance at him. 'Oh, Dennis. This arrangement does not seat well with you, does it?' A sad smile came to her lips. 'If only Myla was yet alive..' A sigh softly escaped her lips. "Now that it has come to your knowledge, shall it not be best if you make haste to make yourself presentable?" She inquired, as she placed her hand on his head. Dennis had indeed grown over the years; and she was beyond Glad that she could testify to that. "Alright." The young man mumbled uncertainly.

 He sighed, as soon as she left. Only when he got in proximity to the dresser, did he realize what it was that Dorothy spoke of. Disheveled pain blonde hair, and eyes that threatened to sink deep into their sockets. "I certainly appear as an invalid." He chuckled to himself, as he stared at his own reflection.

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 In a certain household, a particular girl laid idly on her bed, her room devoid of any light although it was Day. The thick black curtains also served as a blockage to the sun ray's, denying them the privilege of having any entry of any sort. The only sort of noise that disturbed her, was the consistent knocking on the door. "My lady, my lady!" A shrill voice constantly called out to her, much to the vexation of the damsel. 'Let her knock, Beatrice; If she notices that she is being ignored, she shall most certainly take her leave.' The damsel muttered, her eyes shut, her hands pressed against her ears as though that would somehow block out the source of sound. "My lady, you have to eat something.." The maid pressed on, the anxiety clear in her voice. Without warning, an interval of silence reigned. "...Is she still refusing her meals?" An entity inquired. "I have tried my best, but still.." "..Just give it here, I shall take it up to her."

 Beatrice frowned lightly. Although she was not able to hear the entirety of the conversation, since they spoke in hushed tones, she was still able to keen in on some. That manner of speech.. Could it be? "Beatrice." A voice called out, accompanied by a series of heavy knocks. 'Does he intend to pull down the manor?' The angry thought popped into Beatrice's head, causing her to briskly seat upon her bed. The Door handle began to rattle furiously as well. "Beatrice, this level of childishness has gone on for far too long. I am not the type to gently convince, and you are aware of that." The individual continued to threaten. "If you decide not to open this door this instant, then I shall pry it open." He added. Upon receiving no response, a series of bangs predominated the small manor. So intense was the force, that Beatrice's Windows rattled ferociously in their shutters, convincing the damsel to hop down from her bed. "Are you an ogre?" She called out loudly, as soon as she opened the door. Erastiel gazed at her, and upon witnessing those brown eyes gazing into his in an infuriated manner, his temperament could not Help but to disappear. The fragile thing that could not even surpass half of his height clicked her tongue angrily at him. "What brings you here?" She muttered, as she averted her gaze. "You are the most difficult person I shall surely ever meet in this lifetime, Beatrice." Erastiel informed her. She even appeared to be quite petite in the outfit she wore, and her collar bones did not hesitate to boldly reveal herself in her nape region. "Move." He told her simply, pushing her aside. Beatrice toppled for a moment, nearly falling to her feet. "How very mindful of you." She stated, with a glare, as she used the door to stabilize her feet. "I shan't even be surprised if a small gust of wind is capable of lifting you off your feet." Erastiel told her, as he went to open the curtains. "You are such a fool, Beatrice." He muttered to himself, placing the food on her bed. Beatrice walked up to him. "Take this back with you. I am honestly not interested." She told him, removing the plate from her bed and handing it over to him. Erastiel gazed at her with eyes filled with irritation. "Shall I shove it up your throat instead?!" He asked, as he grabbed her wrist firmly. "Eras, you are hurting me." Beatrice said, as she tried to wring her arm out of the man's grip. Unfortunately In their scuffle, the plate of food came crashing down, the minute splinters shattering everywhere. Beatrice winced inwardly, when she felt One of the shards brushing past her ankle. A light tap against the door turned their attention away from each other. "Master Eras." The maid called out, as she courtsied. "Grandeine." Eras called out in response, as he saw the maid who stood idly by the door. Grandeine's eyes trailed towards the pieces of plates which laid on the ground. "Master, you have hurt her; I am afraid." Grandeine said, as she walked towards the both of them. Erastiel grabbed Beatrice's Hand with even more force, causing the latter to whimper. "Well, what do you expect me to do, when she decides to remain impossible to deal with?" Grandeine asked the maid. "That may be true, but inflicting external Wounds on her will not help to resolve her case." Grandeine said, before glancing at her mistress for a while. "You know more than I do, how sensitive the little mistress is." Grandeine tried to convince. The man gritted his teeth. "Take care of her then; you know that, I cannot deal with her as delicately as you do." Erastiel said, as he strode out of the room, without saying another word. "You should seat down my lady, I shall fetch something to clean this up." Grandeine told her, before proceeding to leave the room as well.

 She did not take too long to return, though- with a broom and a packer in hand. "I hope you are not too hurt, my lady?" She inquired, while carefully gathering the pieces of rubble. "How did you?" Beatrice began, but she finally decided to hold her tongue. Grandeine had, and always will be one of the observant maids in the Household, although she seldom spoke. "Permit Me to look." She said to her mistress, after she was done with gathering the crumbles. She lightly seated herself on her mistress's bed, gazing steadily into the affected area. "It is but a slight cut- a little bit of hydrogen peroxide should enable a quick recovery." The maid quipped, prescribing the dosage as If she were a physician. She glanced at the damsel for a brief moment, and she could not help but sigh after discovering the latter's downcast eyes. "Master Eras's intentions to you where not completely wrong; Although he tried to make clear his point using the wrong methods." Grandeine told her. "Do you know how much chaos this hunger strike of yours has caused in this household, little miss?" Grandeine asked, as she raised her head. "I have never seen the Baron and his wife fight before, but ever since you had embarked on this little decision of yours, are you aware that their arguments have ceased not?" She inquired, while applying the said medication into a bit of cotton swab. "So you should understand the reason as to why Master Erastiel dealt so harshly with you, this morning." Grandeine elaborated further. Beatrice shifted her right leg uncomfortably- probably due to the sting of her medication. "So, what you try to insinuate, is that I Behave like a spoilt princess?" Beatrice asked, while looking at her maid. Grandeine replied without batting an eyelid. "The little miss has answered the question for herself." She said directly. The damsel gave her an unsightly glare. "Alas! It appears well within the baron's intention, to spoil you even further." Grandeine explained, another sigh escaping her lips. "The Marquis and his son are coming over today, and unless you want them to see you as a drenched little chicken, I advise for you to seat in bed and sulk." Grandeine told her. Beatrice gave a small smile- this maid of hers sure knows how to give an indirect insult. But, in the otherwise... "You do not make jests, do you?" Beatrice interrogated, while eyeing her maid. Grandeine gave her an upright stare. "Whenever did I jest with you, my lady?" Grandeine asked. "Make haste and tell me what your decision shall be- So I may know if I should inform the head cook to prepare for you, your favorite cuisine." Grandeine informed her. Before Beatrice could open her mouth, her bowels had already growled in response. A slight smile came to the face of the maid, who glanced casually at the damsel who Lowered her head from embarrassment. "Yes, please." She muttered in a low tone. 'That two weeks fast of yours is finally showing some effect, is that not?' Grandeine thought, as she glanced at the maiden. "Alright then. I shall act in accordance to your bidding." Grandeine replied, before standing up to leave. Beatrice's formerly neat room had long become exceptionally filthy-especially since all servants were denied entry for two weeks. But Beatrice did not mind. She hobbled towards the direction of her window, peering downwards into the street below.

 The sun brought its heat upon the skin of her neck; but the young lady did not seem to mind. For all she knew, it was a form of bliss to her. For a brief moment, possibly due to the refraction of the Sun's rays, She had illusioned an outgoing carriage to bear the emblem of the Lewis Household.

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 The first thing the Man saw, the moment he opened his eyes, was a blinding light. In whatsoever direction he looked, the objects which laid as such seemed to possess a tinge of gold in them. "Dorothy." He Called out weakly. "Shut the binders." He added, as he shielded his eye with his hands. "Dorothy?" He called out once more, with an even higher degree of uncertainty. That was when he realized; 'Dorothy, resides in this manor no more.' He thought, as he tried to, with much effort, pull himself to seat up. He subconsciously glanced towards the left side of the bed, but the woman was not there. "Why does my chest.. feel as though it carries a mighy weight?" He asked no one In particular, while clutching his chest. Breathing was a burdensome task- each inhale and exhale- caused his lungs to hurt repeatedly, as though he was inhaling a toxic fume, and not actual oxygen.

 The door creaked open, and a woman stepped in. "Thank goodness you are conscious- I was contemplating on whether or not Anna should be consulted." Beatrice told him, as she seated herself on the bed. "Does it hurt?" She asked, peering up at him. She lightly placed her hand on his, as well. Dennis just gazed at her- he knew not what she rambled on about. The last memory he recalled was him trying to perform his tasks, as normal, Cornelia irritating him greatly by rambling on about mundane things...

 "Dennis." He felt a light pressure on his hand. The damsel had worried herself for naught, after noticing that he only stared blankly at her- his eyes were fixated on her, but not actually looking at her. "Where has your mind wandered to?" She asked but all she got in response was Dennis recoiling from her touch. "Where is Cornelia?" The man asked, as he made his descent from the bed. "Where are you headed?" Beatrice asked hurriedly, when she observed that he was headed towards the door. Dennis glanced at her for a brief moment. "To the office I still have some work to do and..." He averted his eyes. "Cornelia must be awaiting my return." "I have long sent Cornelia to her abode, dearest brother." Sylvester, who was about to enter the room from the hallways, stated. "You must still be slightly confused, so it will be best for you to get some rest." The lad told him, as he stood before the threshold of the room, in order to prevent the latter from moving out. Sylvester avoided the gaze of his Older brother, tilting his head slightly in Beatrice's direction. "Beatrice, the timing may be a bit late but- could you kindly give him his medication?"

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 It took a terribly long period of time to Coerce Dennis to return to his bed; and even more to actually explain to him what it was that occurred. At the moment, the man stared suspiciously at the pill which was placed before him. "Take it." Sylvester quipped from where he stood, his arms folded. Unless if you want your physical condition to deteriorate further." Dennis however, gazed at the small, overly white pill in his palm, before glancing upwards once more. "Did Anna truly recommend this?" He asked, once more. "Why are you acting like a child now? Just ingest the pill, If you wish for your health to improve." Sylvester urged. "Sylvester." Beatrice glared at him, making it clear that she was not fond of the tone he used. As soon as the man ingested it however, he began to cough; prompting Beatrice to immediately massage his back. Dennis frowned lightly- the pill was bitter, and it left a burning sensation in his chest the instant he swallowed it. "Let him have some water." Sylvester called out from the sidelines, not feeling a shred of empathy towards his brother at all. From where he sat, he noticed the slight frown that waa on her face. 'Beatrice.. you can be too quick witted for my liking.' Sylvester thought, as he sighed. 'I never intended for you to find out in the first place, but I never expected that vile woman to actually..' He clicked his tongue, intending to leave the place. "Sylvester." Beatrice called out once more. "Dennis has become quiet." She stated. Sylvester shot a glance at the man who laid on the bed, before giving her a perplexed gaze. "You worry yourself too much Beatrice, the drug is just taking effect." Sylvester assured. He was about to turn once more to depart, but he felt a slight tug on his sleeve. "You do not utter falsehood, do you, Sylvester?" The sharp tone in her voice nearly made the young man to flinch. 'She has not discovered the cause already, has she?' He thought. "What makes you think so?" Sylvester inquired, as he placed his hands behind his back. "Just as Anna said, he is only suffering from fatigue. No need for your mind to delve so deeply into the matter." He elaborated. Beatrice gazed at him for some time, before glancing at the invalid. "But why did he appear much paler to me after taking the medication?" She could not Help but inquire. A small smile came into Sylvester lips. "His body must surely be trying to adapt, I believe." He tried to assure the maiden. And why was Katrina not present at the moment, to prevent her from thinking too much about the affair?

 "Dennis." Beatrice could not Help but mutter the name of the unconscious man, after Sylvester had departed from their means. How was it that as Sylvester began to regain his health, Dennis had begun to take ill instead?

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 The tides surged relentlessly on the blue sea. Although the amount was miniscule, it still sufficed to bring up some waves, which splashed against the deck of the shore. A man clad in blue, stood magnificently aboard the deck of the ship. The vessel In question, was rather large and well designed, more than capable of taking individuals of up to a thousand people, and if cargoes were to be included, can potentially transport up to ten times it's own weight. But although the ship was large in size, the craftsmen had ensured that the vessel would not sink, even when facing the most severe tempest. But for now, there was no raging wind nor monstrous storms; the blue body was as calm and pallid as a lake, occasional ripples coming into sight due to the ferocity in which the vessel moved, as well as the current of the water.

 The man yawned, getting exhausted of seeing the vast body of blue for so long. His golden eyes stared at the sea gulls who perched on the deck for so long, hitching a free ride. They were not terrified of this human, since he was typically a frequent visitor to this place. "I wonder how those with aquaphobia would cope under such circumstances." The man muttered to himself, before subconsciously glancing backwards. Apart from the crew which were on deck, and the white sails which fluttered widly like a banner, he saw nothing else. "That is rather strange; I presumed I heard the sound of footsteps." The man said, before turning forward again. Not too long afterwards, a certain sound could be heard, which in turn, caused the sea gull to flutter widly into the air, squawking madly. "Salem Dinerto." The man called out, as he addressed the sudden intruder. "You have scared of my little companions. How would you like to be rewarded for that?" He inquired. The man just simply flipped his hand over the person's shoulder. "Aetan." He said, before whispering. "I can still address you as such, Can I not?" The silver-haired man gave an exasperated sigh. "Only when we are alone." Aetan stated, forcefully bearing the weight of his newly found companion. "Do you value the presence of animals more than that of the actual humans?" He inquired, with a smirk. Aetan only glanced at his friend, who was only but a couple of centimeters taller than him. The man had worn an elegant black and white uniform, with a black cap to match. With his physique as that of a military commander, the outfit clearly highlighting his muscles, one would mistake him for the captain of the ship. Salem smiled. "You were thinking about her, where you not?" He inquired, peering keenly into his friend's face. "I was not." Aetan replied, as he freed his being from the shoulder that weighed him down. "Do keep your distance- I perceive the alcohol in your breath." Aetan stated. The smirk on Salem's face grew even larger. "I wonder how her reaction shall be when she finds out that you became king." Salem said, as he leaned in closer to the ocean. "The goddess so help you, that you do not fall into the sea." Aetan Simply remarked. "I am a devout follower; surely she shall not abandon those that are loyal to her?" Salem inquired, as he raised his eyes skyward, as though he were asking the goddess herself. "Is she the only issue you can bring up?" Hs asked, with a slight frown on his face. "Just because your father is the captain of this vessel, does not give you the right to behave as you please." He further elaborated. Salem simply pulled his tongue out in response. "You really had a lot to drink; Your father will be disappointed." Aetan stated, as he shook his head. "For how long until we reach the empire of Hardon?" He asked. "We have tarried on this ocean for three days; how much longer shall my patience be tested?" He asked, placing his jaw on his chin. "Approximately four days, at most." Salem replied. "What is the matter with you? Are you not aware that Hardon is one of the farthest countries from Curintas?" He asked, after seeing the look on his comrades face. Aetan sighed. "I just want to fulfill this talks of diplomacy, so I can face other pressing issues." Aetan stated, already feeling burdened by the responsibilities upon him. Salem gave him a slight poke against the shoulder. "So you are not eager to see her?" He interrogated, with a naughty smirk. "Do you want Curintas to have a war in the first year of my reign?" Aetan inquired. "Huh?" Salem had a confused expression on his face. "As a newly appointed king, it is my duty to present myself before the monarchs of the other countries. Some of them may deem it disrespectful if I do not do such- especially since I have already made known my prominence to one." He explained, to his friend, who scratched his Head. "I have a faster way to do that." Salem stated, with a smile. "Oh? Is that so?" Aetan inquired, vividly intrigued. Salem turned to the ocean with a smile, before cupping his oral cavity. "Beware, all nations of Delecrine! The new king of Curintas treads your way! And he shall devour your kingdom with blood and fire!" "Be quiet, you imbecile!" Aetan stated in an angry whisper, giving Salem a hard knock to the head. A group of men laughed at the declaration; it was those that supposed to be on the look out. 'Goodness, I completely forgot that he was drunk.' He thought, while staring at his friend, who chuckled to himself. 'He does have the potential to be an army commander; with that obnoxiously loud voice of his." He stated.

 A man hobbled towards both men, Chuckling at himself as he did. If Aetan thought Salem to be drunk, then this dwarf that came unto them was beyond drunk. "Your majesty." The dwarf prostrated, after he noticed Aetan's presence. "Salem, Captain Dinerto demands your presence." He informed. "Ah, what have I done wrong this time?" Salem grumbled, as he went along with the dwarf. "I did try to warn him." Aetan said, as he watched both men recede further into the distance, knowing quite alright, what his offense was.