47 Vol. II Prologue - The Dove (1/2)

The noble estates of Riviera were truly impressive things. Far above the rest of the city, at its northernmost and highest point, the estates sprawled out, built atop a cliff face. Below them the filth and ruckus of the city proper reigned strong. To their east the cliff veered off, showing off a pristine view into the beautiful baby blues of Lake Lys.

All of these estates, however, were marvelous works of architectural art, which wasn't surprising, considering that many wealthy merchants chose to retire here, to the city of the dove where peace had reigned for centuries, only ever marred by the demon wars of 1000.

At the same time, each estate had its own personality.

The Alarie estate, for example, exuded a sense of foreboding mystery with a mansion of ebony wood that seemed to evade the eye during the day and blend in with the night. Then there was the Lakely estate, a towering spire surrounded by walls of brilliant marble that reflected blinding light during the day, drawing the eyes of all towards it.

But there was one estate that truly reigned above all. It stood at the very top of the cliff face. A veritable castle, its roof and towers topped with light blue tiles and fluttering white flags etched with golden symbols of the dove.

The estate of Lys – the ruling family over Riviera, making it among the four most important bloodlines in the duchy. Or rather, it should have been among the important ones. The truth was, Riviera had never held as much worth as the other cardinal cities.

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Unlike Montagne in the North, it did not have rich and deep mines full of both mundane and mystical alloys.

Unlike Trieste in the East, it did not lie near warm waterways that held boundless potential for trading.

Unlike Duvin in the South, its fields and harvests were not as bountiful, its vines never as green and full.

Riviera was, historically, never important and always overlooked. It contributed a little of everything but never particularly excelled at anything. Even during the demon wars, they had escaped its horrors, with the western Hinterlands and their tribes acting like buffers that soaked up the brunt of the invasion. This was also why the Lys bloodline had escaped the bloodline purges that had propped up the duchy in 1020.

So when the duchess Vivienne stepped foot into Lord Lys's study, there was nothing but surprise in the rotund old man's eyes.

Vivienne smiled and curtsied, her fingertips grasping at the edges of a golden dress befitting of a kingdom blessed by the sun. ”Hello, Uncle Anton, it has been such a while! How have you been?”

Lord Anton Lys blinked several before slapping his puffy cheeks. When he realized that the duchess was, indeed, standing before him in the flesh, he began to stammer. ”Y-your highness! Goodness, I should be meeting you in the great hall, not in this sorry excuse of a study. Why did the servants not inform me of your arrival? Why, I shall give them an earful they will not forget!”

”Oh, you must not take your anger out upon those poor folk,” said Vivienne as she took off her white gloves. ”I flew here with Sunstar, you see, and the matter was urgent, so I had the servants simply lead me to where you were. But my, to think this is now your study.”

Lord Lys followed the duchess's gaze and realized she was staring at his study, or rather, it was just his bedroom with a grandiose desk slapped down in the middle, just a few comfortable steps away from his plush bed.

”Oh, this, well, I've grown rather heavy these days, and so the walk up to the tower where the study used to be became rather taxing.” Lord Lys clasped his hands together and held them towards the duchess in a pleading manner. ”Please understand, your highness, this is not an indicator of sloth. My health has simply been failing me. An issue of a gland in the throat, the healers say – it makes my weight difficult to tame.”

”I am not judging you. Rather, what an excellent idea! Perhaps I shall hold all my royal meetings in the comfort of my bedchamber too.” Vivienne walked up to the desk and sat on the cushioned and bejeweled chair behind it. She motioned for Lord Lys to sit opposite of her, on a firm but average looking stool meant for temporary visitors.

Lord Lys sat, and the stool groaned under his weight but managed to stand with a heroic effort. He tugged at the collar of his doublet, trying to get some breath. Thank the gods he had not been in his undergarments that he usually liked to be in when lounging around in his 'study'.

Vivienne waved at the door where Sunstar stood, his muscled back almost blotting the door out. ”Come, Sunstar, do be a dear and bid yourself a greeting to my uncle.”

”Greetings, my lord,” said Sunstar as he came forwards, giving the lord a pat on the shoulder. The lord whimpered and flinched at the touch. ”You seem pale. Shall I call your healer?”

”No, no need,” said lord Lys as he looked down at the table, avoiding staring at those terrible golden eyes.

Sunstar smiled. ”Well, my lord, if you need anything, just give me a shout. I'll be waiting right outside.”

With that, Sunstar walked out the room. When the door closed behind him, Vivienne tapped the table. ”Uncle, are you not in the mood to talk? You've been staring at the table for so long!”

Lord Lys shook his head, a drop of sweat flicking from his brow. ”Not at all, your highness.” He crossed his arms, his hands grasping at his flab to try and relieve some stress as he stared at the duchess. ”I-it is very nice to meet you. A surprise, but a welcome one. You look very well.”

Vivienne pinched her cheeks and frowned. ”My, please don't lie, uncle. I am sure the years have been catching up to me. I spotted an extra wrinkle in the mirror this morning, can you believe it?”

”Yes, I mean, no, of course not,” said lord Lys as he looked upon a face far too youthful to be near fifty. He shuddered to think of how that youth had been maintained.

”Oh, but it is such a shame to see that your hair has grown so gray now. I remember when you were yet a dashing young commander rallying against the demons – they called you the lion, right, on account of your full and golden hair, and yet here we are! How time passes.”