Clouds slowly enveloped the evening sky, obscuring the last rays of the setting sun. A small procession of people moved through the streets of the small town of Star, named after the baronial family to which it belonged. At this moment, the youngest son of that barony led the crowd, walking slowly forward, carrying coffins on his shoulders. The young man was deeply distressed, his shoulders slumped, and his light blonde hair, barely reaching his shoulders, hid the future baron's face, making it difficult to read his expression.
A great tragedy had befallen this small town, claiming the lives of the Baron and Baroness, as well as their eldest son and daughter—a night fire. Only the youngest son, Leon, who had sneaked out of the house that day to enjoy the night lake in the company of a maiden of less noble blood, survived. Walking beside the funeral procession was a short-haired, black-haired man no longer in his youth—Count Eduard Sky, whose family, in the distant past, had granted the Star family the title of Baron and the right to rule these lands. Behind him, limping slightly, his long gray hair neatly gathered into a ponytail, walked old Viscount Howard Lines—the Count's right-hand man. He watched the proceedings with a grim expression, and for good reason: now that the title of Baron would be inherited by the scatterbrained Leon Star, his workload would increase, given all the bureaucratic fuss with paperwork. It would have been much simpler if Leon had also perished in the fire—something Howard certainly did not wish for, but it would undoubtedly have meant fewer headaches.
Gazing at the funeral procession, Howard also noticed a member of the Titus family—another barony belonging to the County of Sky. It was Lindsay Titus, the younger sister of Anna Star, wife of the deceased Charles Star, Leon's father. Surprisingly, Baron Casper Titus and his wife Phillis Titus, along with other family members, had not attended the funeral of their daughter and sister.
Howard sighed heavily once more and looked at the back of the Count walking ahead. He still wore his doublet, embroidered in sky-blue with small gold accents, but the doublet itself was less interesting than the design embroidered on its back—a cloud pierced by an arrow, the coat of arms of the County family. In their own lands, nobles were permitted to display their family crest to the people. However, whenever they left the territory belonging to them for any reception, their crest had to be accompanied by the crest of the one they served. Therefore, Viscount Lines was dressed in an ordinary black tailcoat, unadorned with any designs or symbols.
A small drop of water fell right before the Viscount's nose, and he involuntarily glanced up at the sky, peering at the evening clouds. They looked like rain clouds, from which a downpour might soon burst forth. Perhaps the sky itself had also decided to mourn the deceased Baron and his family. Meanwhile, the procession had already passed through the city gates, and the cobblestone path led them away from the town. After a while, it turned towards a cemetery as small as the town itself. Soon they stood before a crypt that towered above all the other graves. Beside it stood a priest in a simple black cassock, without any adornment or symbols. In his hands, he held a censer from which the scent of incense already emanated, immediately striking the old Viscount's nose. Trying not to grimace too much, Howard still attempted to maintain a somber expression. Looking around, one could notice he was not alone in this; ceremonies with a priest were quite expensive, and not every noble was willing to part with a portion of their wealth to bury the dead in consecrated ground, considering gold was no use to them. Yet Leon had still spent a portion of his father's wealth to ensure they received a dignified funeral.
The old Viscount also knew that Count Sky was observing the young Baron, watching how he saw their old friend off to the next world and managed the inheritance. Overall, the entire situation resembled one where a younger son tries to seize all power. Of course, Leon had a witness who claimed that the younger Star had been with him before the fire started. But what use was a witness if they could be bought, and the entire operation staged in advance? Howard certainly didn't strongly believe in this scenario, but as a precaution, he had arrived in the town of Star early and investigated everything himself. His conclusion was as follows: either Leon was simply lucky not to have been killed, or the younger Star was an unparalleled genius who managed to eliminate all evidence. Both options, generally speaking, suited the Viscount. In the first case, one only needed to find who orchestrated everything and bring them to a fair trial. In the second case, Count Sky would have a determined and, most importantly, clever young man on his side, one who could carve a path upward in his career and become something more than just a baron. Such a scenario would, of course, also be dangerous, as one could lose one's own position. But in the long run, such talent would benefit the county and the kingdom as a whole. And then, most likely, the old Viscount Lines would finally retire. However, given Leon's reputation as a layabout and a very unserious young man, the second option seemed extremely unlikely.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Another heavy sigh escaped Howard's chest. He realized that, lost in his thoughts, he hadn't been listening to the priest's prayer. The priest had opened the coffins and was seeing off the deceased on their final journey, swinging his censer over their bodies. The Viscount was not particularly fond of religion, nor was he a devout man, despite his advanced age. His gaze shifted to the young Baron, who was no longer holding back his tears, watching the priest's service over the dead bodies of his relatives. It must be hard for him, losing all his loved ones at once. And he hadn't even finished his studies at the Royal Academy of Crow to properly rule all the lands he had now inherited—though the young man probably hadn't planned for that. He would have taken as his wife some third or fourth daughter of neighboring baronies, or perhaps even that commoner girl, Mary, he believed her name was, with whom he had spent the night by the lake. He would have lived the life of an ordinary official in his father's, and later his brother's, service, left behind offspring who couldn't claim the baronial title, and eventually died quietly in his home, surrounded by grandchildren. But not everything in life goes according to plan.
The priest spoke the final words, seeing off Leon's sister, Stella Star, on her last journey. The coffin lid closed, as had all the others before, and the service concluded. Before leaving, he bowed to the Baron, then to the Count and Viscount, after which he slowly headed toward a small building at the cemetery's edge. It was a modest house where the priest lived, from which he watched over and tended the cemetery. An old tradition and superstition held that if a priest lived in town, he would bring the spirits of the dead with him. Although the Viscount saw this merely as an anachronism of bygone times—after all, clergymen visited the town anyway to buy food or converse with people—why then didn't the spirits of the dead enter the towns? It was a mystery. But an anachronism was an anachronism, and many of them still persisted despite the approaching age of progress and technology. The Royal family of Crow did not fight against this; on the contrary, it seemed they even encouraged it.
The old Viscount wrinkled his nose again, whether from the unpleasant smell of incense meant to accompany the dead to the other world, or from his own thoughts—he hadn't quite figured that out yet, nor did he particularly want to. At that moment, the coffins were already being carried into the crypt, and the young Baron, dejected, stood at its entrance, unable to take a step forward. Howard glanced toward the Count and noticed that he had apparently been looking at him for some time. Raising an eyebrow questioningly, the old man saw the Count give a slight nod in response and then headed towards Leon.
"Young Baron," Howard addressed him with slight reverence in his voice, trying to convey the respect and sorrow he ought to feel at the death of nobles—a skill that forms on its own when one lives too long in noble society. But this time, it was easier for the Viscount, as he truly felt sadness and regret at the death of Baron Star.
"Your Grace," Leon replied to the Viscount, his grief unrestrained.
"You may dispense with formalities, my boy," the Viscount replied, seeking to win the young man's trust. "Today is a difficult day for you, but it won't get any easier from here. Count Sky wishes to discuss with you certain details concerning your future title and the lands you will soon have to manage."
A look of incomprehension appeared in the young man's eyes, as if he had not yet fully grasped what had happened, and that he was now the Baron.
"Must this be done today?" the youth asked cautiously, with a hint of distrust.
"My boy," Howard smiled as kindly as possible. "The Count is a very busy man. The fact that he came to your father's funeral is a great honor, considering even his friends did not deign to appear. So one should not detain such a noble person. Moreover, the sooner we resolve the matters concerning your title's inheritance, the sooner you can return to the Royal Academy and continue your studies, to acquire all the necessary skills for governing the barony you have inherited from your father. We also need to discuss some details and sign papers—it won't take long, but it's best done today, as the Count may not have such precious time later."
Leon merely nodded in response to the old Viscount's words, continuing to stare into the darkness of the crypt, where only small torch lights flickered in the distance. Howard decided to end the conversation and wait for the people, so they could then proceed to Leon's temporary home, as Baron Charles's residence was in a completely unacceptable state. Yes, a difficult conversation undoubtedly awaited them...
