Chapter 8: The Lords Duties

Klein was truly exhausted from the previous night's events, and as a result, he woke up very late in the morning. He remained blissfully unaware of the passing hours, comfortably tangled in the thick sheets of his grand four-poster bed. His arms were wrapped tightly around a pillow, and one of his legs sprawled awkwardly over the blanket, creating a rather undignified sleeping posture for a noble lord.

Cedric, his ever-dutiful steward, stepped into the chamber and let out a quiet sigh at the sight before him. It was rare to see Klein so unguarded, so at ease. For a moment, he hesitated, unwilling to disturb such a peaceful scene. But duty prevailed.

He approached the bed and gently placed a hand on Klein's shoulder, giving it a light pat. His voice was soft yet firm."My lord, it is morning. You must wake up."

Klein let out a muffled groan, burying his face deeper into the pillow he was clutching. Cedric shook his head in mild exasperation before crouching slightly to get a better look at his sleeping lord. His gaze lingered on Klein's face, and his expression unconsciously softened.

Klein resembled his mother—Cedric's elder sister—so much that it was almost painful to look at him sometimes. The same striking features, the delicate yet defined jawline, the high cheekbones, and the rare, almost ethereal beauty that had once belonged to her. The resemblance was uncanny, and it stirred a deep sense of melancholy within Cedric. His sister had been gone for years now, but in Klein's face, he could still see traces of her.

Cedric took a steadying breath, pushing aside the wave of nostalgia.

He straightened himself and turned toward the waiting maids standing just outside the chamber. With a nod, he gave them his command."Prepare to help Lord Klein dress. He has already slept long enough."

As the maids hurried to follow his instructions, Cedric turned back to his nephew, who was still stubbornly clinging to sleep. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips."Klein," he called once more, this time with a trace of fondness, "wake up before I have the maids drag you out of bed."

That finally earned a reaction. Klein groaned again, shifting slightly, but the threat of being manhandled was enough to pull him from his slumber. His drowsy eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep, as he blinked up at Cedric in confusion.

And just like that, the new day had begun.

Klein sighed as he straightened his coat and made his way to the grand hall that served as Stormguard's courtroom. The day had barely begun for him, and yet he already felt the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on his shoulders.

As the Marquess of the Storm Isles, Klein was the highest-ranking noble in the region, and with that status came immense authority. His territory, Stormguard, encompassed one large island and many smaller ones, making it a strategic and economic hub. The burden of governance, however, was far too great for one man to handle alone, and so Klein had wisely delegated many of his responsibilities.

Cedric, his ever-reliable steward and uncle, handled diplomacy and financial matters. He was the backbone of Stormguard's administration, ensuring that trade agreements, taxes, and resource management were handled efficiently. Miss Alice, a trusted subordinate, was entrusted with managing the territory's taxation, ensuring a steady flow of revenue to maintain the army and infrastructure.

As for military affairs, Klein retained direct command as the supreme authority over his forces, but much of the day-to-day training and operations fell to Claude, his personal security chief and the head trainer of the army. Claude was the second-highest authority in the military hierarchy, acting as a strategist and enforcer in Klein's stead.

While these men and women carried out their roles with dedication, there was one duty that Klein could not and would not delegate—his role as the supreme judge of Stormguard. Justice was the foundation of a noble's rule, and Klein understood that his people needed to see him as a fair and decisive ruler.

Every Sunday, from one in the afternoon until six in the evening, Klein presided over court hearings, but only for the most serious and pressing matters. Lesser disputes were handled by magistrates and lower-ranking officials, allowing Klein to focus on cases that truly demanded his attention.

Today was no different. As he entered the hall, he found it already filled with concerned citizens and guards escorting accused criminals. His seat was a high-backed chair positioned at the head of the chamber, elevated slightly above the rest. A symbol of authority, but also a reminder of the responsibility that came with it.

The first case was severe—a man accused of stealing from the town granary stood trembling before him, pleading for leniency. Klein questioned the guards and witnesses, ensuring that no details were overlooked.

A witness, a middle-aged grainkeeper named Willem, stepped forward."My lord, this man has stolen from the granary three times in the past month. We have counted the sacks of grain, and he has taken enough to feed a family for weeks. We caught him last night trying to sneak away with another sack."

Klein turned to the accused. "Do you deny these claims?"

The man, gaunt and desperate-looking, wrung his hands. "My lord, I have children to feed. There is no work, no coin—I had no choice!"

Klein studied him for a long moment before speaking. "Stormguard has charity provisions for those in need. Did you seek aid before resorting to theft?"

The man hesitated, his silence an answer in itself. Klein exhaled. "Your crime is serious. The granary feeds not just your family but many others. If everyone stole as you did, many would starve. However, I recognize your desperation."

He turned to Cedric. "Ensure his family receives proper aid from the treasury, but as for the accused… He will serve five years in forced labor, working under the granary's supervision. He will repay what he has taken with honest work."

The hall murmured in approval, the balance of justice evident.

The next case was even graver—an accusation of assault against a town guard. Violence against the town's enforcers was a serious crime, and Klein had little patience for those who disrespected law and order.

The accused, a burly man with a scowl, stood defiantly as a bloodied guard presented himself. "My lord," the guard stated, "this man attacked me when I stopped him from harassing a merchant's daughter. When I intervened, he struck me with a bottle. I bear the scar of his crime."

Klein turned his gaze to the accused. "Do you deny this?"

The man scoffed. "I was drunk. I meant no real harm."

Klein's voice was steel. "Drunkenness is no excuse for harming a guard and endangering a citizen. Your crime is severe."

The judgment was swift. "You are sentenced to ten years in the dungeon and a fine of twenty gold pieces to be paid to the injured guard. Let this serve as a warning—Stormguard will not tolerate violence against those who protect its people."

After a day of hearing trials, Klein's busy day was far from over. He needed to find a proper excuse for the sudden appearance of a blue-haired kid.

Throughout the day, Epimithis had been constantly bugging him, asking when he would be freed. Klein was quite annoyed, and he devised an ingenious plan: he would pretend to have found Epimithis in an orphanage and adopt him, citing the boy's high magical talent.

And so he went to the orphanage accompanied by Claude and 4 formal knights.