Earl Hagen Westbrook plopped down onto the chair on his empty study room, allowing himself at least a couple of minutes to rest. His body was fine. Rather, it was his mind that’d been overworked.

These last few days, everything seemed to be going the wrong way. For starters, a small town on the outskirts of his territory got raided by Vasilis’ rebels; or at least that’s what the evidence seemed to point at.

Hagen doubted that Vasilis would order anything of the sort. The man had many good qualities, one of which was his intelligence. Such an attack would only cause other nobles to stand against him, something that the foreigner definitely wouldn’t want.

Not only that, but Hagen was also well aware that the baroness who lorded over that town was leaning towards the rebels cause. Hagen knew it because he was the one who swayed her to Vasilis’ side.

If anything, such an unprovoked attack would only make Vasilis look violent and without scruples. Hagen knew exactly who would benefit from that.

Rass Skanler, Earl of Knight’s Crossing, and exactly the one who Vasilis was rebelling against.

Hagen once heard that talent skips a generation, and Rass was the proof of that. His father, Edder Skanler, had been one of the most admirable rulers that Hagen ever met. Level-headed, just, kind; these were just some of the compliments received by the man during his lifetime. Rass inherited none of these qualities.

Cruel, petty, and short-tempered were better ways of describing him. Edder inherited a fiefdom in chaos. He spent most of his life solidifying his rule and trying to improve the lands. Rass seemed set on undoing all of it and leave Knight’s Crossing in a worse state than when his father inherited it.

If there was one bad thing to say about Edder, then it would be how little time he spent with his children, which was understandable considering how much work he had to do. As such, they were educated solely by the court tutor, one Vasilis Marar.

Vasilis had never been afraid to reprimand the children when they did wrong — as he should. But Rass could never accept such a thing. That boy caused Vasilis more headaches than all other children combined.

In one incident, the boy tested a sword’s sharpness by swinging at a stray dog.

Vasilis chastised him harshly after that. “You have no honor,” he told the boy. “You’ll never be a man.”

Even years after that, Rass never forgot what he considered to be an unjust insult.

After Edder’s untimely death at The Tongue, the title of Earl fell to Rass. One of his first decisions as Earl was to imprison his old tutor along with his family. He managed to imprison both Vasilis and Marietta, his wife, but their son Devran had been out of town at the time.

Recalling Vasilis’ words that he’d never be a man, Rass castrated his old tutor. “Now you will never be a man,” is what he said according to soldiers present at the time.

Not satisfied with that, he then turned to Marietta. Claiming how unfortunate it was that they’ll no longer be able to have children, he decided to “enlist his men’s help” and sent her to be used by the soldiers. The Skanler’s favor as it became known.

Some claim that Rass took part in the rape while others claim that he instead forced Vasilis to watch, but ultimately there were no doubts about the sort of cruel maniac that Rass Skanler was.

Vasilis and Marietta would probably have died in those dungeons if Devran hadn’t, somehow, managed to break then out. They went into hiding after that, but not forever.

Years later, they resurged with a vengeance, set on ousting Rass from power. They gathered disgruntled soldiers and dissatisfied villagers and trained them into a veritable fighting force. While still unable to face Rass’ forces head-on, they created enough problems that it became impossible for the Earl to ignore.

This became a real threat to his rule. Duke Olsandre refused to get involved which, in practice, meant the same as abandoning the Earl.

Rochdale, the closest neighbor to Knight’s Crossing, didn’t get involved in the conflict, at least for the moment. Hagen wanted to support Vasilis but for that, he first needed to gather all of his forces.

That’s what he’d been working on. Reunited at his castle were viscountess Hawick and all of the barons under her to discuss plans regarding the conflict.

Hagen spent weeks planning for this meeting as well as many others. His preparations went from accommodations for all of the nobles, meal courses, and even the seating arrangement during the meetings. This last one was especially important because if barons Semar Teer and Crann Ullrich stayed too close together, then any discussion would detract into a trade of insults between the two; which was exactly what happened today.

Discussions had been going well until a handmaid couldn’t find Semar’s daughter. While searching for the girl, it was discovered that Crann’s son had also gone missing. The news reached the meeting room, one accused the other, and soon all hopes of deciding anything today evaporated.

Honestly, Hagen would rather not have to deal with either of the two, but they were too powerful for him to ignore. It honestly amazed Hagen how much the two hated each other while their children got along so well.

Currently, the missing children were his biggest headache but there were a lot of smaller ones. His cousin Elin, for example, who was caught in bed with a slave. Also the rise of banditry in his lands due to all the tension. Or even his wife who kept pushing him for a child.

This last one was only a small headache at the moment, but it would grow the more time passed. Before long, his vassals would also start getting nervous about the lack of an heir. Just like Athalia, he also wanted to have children, but only after things settled down. If Rass’ history taught him anything was that children needed attention; attention that he couldn’t spare due to the tensions with Knight’s Crossing. So he asked her to continue taking the arid tea.

Someone opened the door and walked into the room. Hagen didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “How is it?”

Athalia, his wife, walked around the desk and sat at its edge, right in front of him. The hemline of her blue dress brushed against his legs. “Semar called Crann a dirty knave and received as an answer that he couldn’t get over the fact that Riyana didn’t want him. So all as expected, I would say.”

“Riyana,” Hagen said with a sigh. “She’s been dead for so long and somehow every argument of theirs revolves around her. Have we found the children at least?”

“Not yet. I searched their rooms for clues. There were no signs of struggle, so I’d say they chose to leave. The handmaid told me that Bellatrix had a hunting bow, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Same for that hound of hers. If I had to guess, I’d say they went hunting.”

“The nearest place for that would be woods to the south.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I ordered Marleya to grab two squads of guards and go look for then. They’ll be out in ten minutes.”

“Let’s hope they’re fine,” he said, not only because he didn’t want them to get hurt, but also because if anything happened to the two, then the discussions would be as good as finished for today.

Athalia nodded. “How are you doing, by the way?”

Hagen took a deep breath before sitting up straight. “I’m good, all things considered. I’ll be better when we settle all of the details.”

“Maybe it’s time for a rest. You’ve been working non-stop these past few months.” She stood up from the desk and pulled up her dress above the knees so that she could straddle his lap. The Sun of Alella hanging from her neck clinked as she moved.

“How exactly is this supposed to help me relax?”

“I have my ways,” she said with a smile before bringing her lips down to meet with his. It tasted as sweet as the first time they kissed all those years ago.

She moved from his lips down to his neck while her hands worked their way down his tunic.

Maybe she was right; he’d been working too much. Hagen leaned back on the chair, allowing himself a moment to forget about all of his problems. He wanted to stop thinking. Rass, the barons, and even his sister disappeared from his mind.

Her mouth traveled up and started nibbling on his earlobe. She had just started working on undoing his clothes when there was a knock on the door. Athalia groaned in displeasure. “Tell them to wait,” she whispered in his ear.

For a moment, Hagen was inclined to do just that, but he knew he shouldn’t. So despite what he would like to do, he asked her to get up.

Athalia gave an overly exasperated sigh of complaint but didn’t try to argue any further. She stood up and pulled her dress back down.

“Come in,” Hagen spoke after a couple of moments to adjust his clothes and make himself presentable again.

Alon walked into the room with his head full of white hair and fine silk clothes. “My lord, my lady, we found the children.”

Hagen and Athalia looked at one another. That had been fast. “Were they hiding in the castle perhaps?”

“No, my lord. They were hunting at the forest to the south when they were accosted by bandits. Fortunately, someone helped the two fight the bandits. While physically they’re both fine, lady Teer’s dog has unfortunately been killed.”

“Poor girl, she must be devastated,” Athalia said, genuinely concerned.

“That she is, my lady. The guards say she rode through the gates with the dog’s body in her arms.”

“We’ll all pray for her recovery,” Hagen said, mostly honest. While he did hope for her recovery, he was never one to pray, unlike Athalia. “And what about this person who helped then?”

“That’s what I hoped to bring to your attention next. He’s a half-bred boy coming from down south, though he didn’t say exactly where from. He claims to have a message for you, my lord.”

“And what is this message?”

“He wouldn’t tell, my lord; said it’s for your ears only. I left him waiting outside in the hallway.”

“Very well, send him in. I’ll hear whatever he has to say.”

Alon bowed before leaving the room. He returned half-a-minute later followed by the boy.

The boy stood tall, just a couple of inches shorter than Alon himself. His skin was a light brown and mostly covered by a dirty gray cloak under which Hagen noticed a leather armor. He had a well-defined jaw and a broken nose that wasn’t healing all that well.

Hagen decided to bring a healer to help with his nose, that was the least he could do.

Crossing over his chest was a pair of belts holding the two swords to his back. The weapons were probably short or else he wouldn’t be able to draw then. Normally Hagen would chastise the guards for allowing people to bring weapons into his castle. But realistically, the boy was more likely to hurt himself than anybody else given he was just a Fighter… no, not just a Fighter.

It was subtle, but Hagen noticed tiny specks of mana slowly being absorbed into his body. The boy was a Mage. Not particularly strong, but not weak either.

In the same way that Hagen assessed him, the boy looked over the room, more on instinct than trying to be disrespectful. His gaze lingered somewhat on the window at the side of the room.

“What’s your name, boy?” Hagen finally asked.

The boy’s eyes turned back to Hagen. They weren’t exactly green, but not brown either; something in between. “John, my lord.”

“John, from what my chamberlain tells me, you were fundamental at protecting young Bellatrix Teer and Nevil Ullrich and for that, I thank you. He also tells me that you have a message for me.”

“That is correct.” John looked at Alon then at Athalia before bringing a hand under his leather armor. He spent a couple of moments fishing for something before finally revealing a letter.

Hagen extended a hand and the boy walked forward to hand it over. The paper felt rough in Hagen’s hands. It had already started to turn yellow from age. He turned it around and found a red wax seal.

It depicted a dragon, its head standing tall and looking to the right. Forming a circle around the dragon were the words “Victory or Death.”

Hagen was all too familiar with the emblem and motto; they represented house Olsen of the Great Plains. He wondered how did a half-bred boy was chosen to deliver a letter from the Olsens. The Olsens weren’t the most welcoming to southerners and their offsprings, even more so after Grenfell.

He was about to ask John about it when he noticed something odd about the seal. Engraved around the dragon's claws were three laurel wreaths. A tradition inherited by the Solisians, they were used to crown the victor of a King's Tourney. Three wreaths on the seal meant that the person won three times, and Hagen only knew one Olsen who managed such a feat: Jonathan.