The carriage rattled and rocked as it made its way on the streets of Hallhaven. The capital of the Perch domain and the seat of power of the Warden of Perch. As one of the five most powerful men in all of the Velarkian Empire after the Emperor himself, this city certainly held the chaos one would expect from a capital.
Buildings upon buildings as far as he could see, markets bustling with humans and animals, both of the local kind and exotic. Spices and perfumes varied on every street. The streets winding about in roads to alleys to roads again. A variety of dusty yellow and orange buildings.
It was every bit grand, busy, noisy, smelly, dusty, feisty, sweaty, moisty, hasty, mouldy, oily and crones balls, Ezra was running out of descriptions now. But the assault on his senses left him dizzy, looking hazy, and feeling shitty.
Hallhaven had halls, sure, but it was no haven as far as Ezra could see.
"What even is that smell?" Ezra asked, pinching his nose as his carriage rode past a half market–half slum, hell there were more pot holes than there were paved roads. Ezra had always imagined the big cities and the capitals to be grand and neat.
His father had told him that the Warden was a greedy demon who sucked everything he could from the common people. Ezra should've expected poverty, but he hadn't. He had thought that the man would at least keep his city clean and maintained to show off his prosperity, prestige and the like.
But Ezra could see it more clearly now and understood a bit better.
Who does he need to keep up appearances for? His vassals? His relatives? They'll bark if he orders them to, but their discomfort means little to him.
Ezra sighed. This did concern him now, though. He had come to make a petition to his liege, but would his liege even care for the blight of his people, when he clearly doesn't even care for his own?
Ezra mused this as he watched a skinny naked kid sitting in an alley his eyes glazed over, flies humming about the poor figure. Ezra would've stepped down to take a look at the child, but he had seen these kinds of things almost a dozen times in this city ever since he entered through the city gates just a few minutes ago.
He wondered again if he would find any ear for his voice of complaints..
Most probably not.
His father just had to go ahead and die on him and leave the Province to him and make him the Prime. Leaving his youth hung out to dry on the harsh winds of responsibility and duty.
"There will be a ball tonight, the warden will see the Primes after that," the voice came from beside him. Percia was a sharp-faced woman of around the same age as Ezra. With long silky black hair. She was the daughter of Old Gardner who had stayed back home to watch over the estate.
Her face was always as impassive as a rock- for as far back as Ezra could remember. Her deep grey eyes almost seemed dead at times to Ezra, and he could hardly be blamed. She never smiled after her mother had died years ago.
Ezra gazed at her and studied her like an engineer looking at a broken machine thinking of ways to fix it.
She wore a black dress running down to her knees but had cuts at each side from the bottom to the hip, allowing her legs more freedom of movement. Of Course, she wore black pants that went down to her ankles and sandals. She wore full sleeves with her cuffs wide open, with most definitely pockets hidden underneath them. Her pale hands rested on a booklet she carried with her and a pen.
She wore red paint on her lips which was accompanied by a faint blush for makeup and nothing else. Her big doe eyes were wide and sharp as always. Ezra didn't know how that was even possible. Doey eyes and sharpness do not go together.
'I would really like to make that face smile however.'
"My Lord?" Percia said.
Ezra jumped and averted his gaze, coughing in embarrassment, and trying to hide his blush. She was such a contrast compared to this ugly city Ezra decided.
"Maybe you should start looking for a woman worthy enough to begin courting My lord. You are perhaps the most eligible bachelor in the whole domain after the Heir Warden. If you wish, I can give you the list of women who are to attend tonight's ball."
"Courting huh? Do I need to do that.." Ezra trailed off as he turned his gaze back on Percia, which was a wrong move considering–again, how distracting she was.
"Of Course, my lord, the Province needs an heir. I should not be the one to remind you of that responsibility," Percia said, bringing out a list of Glorian-born women.
Ezra took it and read the names absentmindedly, giving up at last on paying attention to his surroundings, and before he even realised it, he was at the Castle Fallrein. The home of the Warden. The great steel gates groaned like someone had woken up a great mammoth. The high grand walls of the Majestic castle stood like a monolith. A representation of the absolute power it's overlord held.
It was supposed to feel like a welcome with the armoured guards and soldiers bowing and slamming their spears down in salute. Instead, Ezra felt like he was being carried into the maw of an insatiable, malicious beast. And for all he knew, he probably was.
•••••
A few hours later, Ezra was sitting in his designated guest room, chewing on a purple colored fruit. It had a sour-sweet pulp that popped in his mouth like a waterskin. Ezra tried chewing the stuff but it melted too quickly for his liking.
Again, it reminded Ezra that good things never last long. They melt away before you even realise it's hidden worth.
He remembered his father, and how he had sheltered Ezra from responsibility and duty, how he had said many times that he would find another person more suited to the seat of the Prime and as his heir, rather than giving as it to his good-for-nothing son.
Ezra was quite content to let him choose another as heir; he had dreamt of riding off into the distance on a horse, with a bag full of coins, which he would obviously not steal from his father's vault. And go on to do adventures. Dancing and carousing in the bars and inns. Getting into Sword fights and scuffles like those vagabond warriors he had read about in the books his mother had left behind.
Alas, his father had other plans for him, the treacherous old man.
He pulled out the crumpled letter his father had left for him in his will before the crooked crone took his soul.
'By the time you read this, I'm probably gone for good, and god's have mercy for my people who are left at your mercy, my boy.
What? Did you think I would pass the position of Prime to someone else? Some stranger I'll pick up from the streets. Or one of the many cousins and relatives we have? Not in their wildest dreams. Those eels were probably hoping for me to give it to one of them; they spat thrice on my back for every praise they gave me on my face.'
Honestly, I'd be lying if I said one of the reasons for giving you the Primeship was not to spite them. I'd like to say that I'm not that petty, but son, you know me better than that.'
"You son of a–!"
Ezra's blood boiled and he would have torn the letter to pieces if not for the second half.
'Just as well as you know me, Ezra, I know you better still. I know you try to hide your competence with lazy indifference. I know you try to hide your care for others with nonchalant generosity, which you mask still with a roguish attitude of excess.
But you cannot hide your goodness from me son. You might've inherited my– I'll admit slightly narcissistic tendencies. But you also have your mother's heart. So I'll trust that heart because in the darkest moments in my life–that heart gave me warmth and pillars when I felt like I would crumble, and I know that the same heart will give others the same warmth.
Take care you brat, this is the first and last compliment you'll ever hear from me. Hope you find strength and confidence in it. I love you.'
His father had always been enigmatic yet stern. Dutiful and off-beat man. Ezra had spent most of his life running away from him, and spent about the same time being chased by him. He had represented a way of life that Ezra was deeply afraid of. Afraid of being dependent on, relied upon or trusted with. Trusted with the responsibility of a whole province, hundreds and thousands of people. How can one man be given so much power over so many, and expected to excel at it like his father did?
But… He sighed, as much as Ezra wanted to run away, he was trapped now. He wanted to trust in his father's words, that he could be the man he wished him to be, but Ezra would be lying to himself if he did.
His contemplation was interrupted as the doors to his luxurious rooms were opened. The guest quarters were even more magnificent than the ones he had back home. Blue floor tiles and white walls painted with beautiful patterns of flowers and elegant vines creating majestic patterns.
But they couldn't compete with the woman who had just entered, grabbing his attention.
Dammit! You stupid brat, stop that. You'll get a Knife through your nethers if you keep that up!
Ezra gulped and nodded at Percia, who was followed by a couple of servants carrying a pole with a formal wear– a bachelor's coat hanging from a hanger.
Percia nodded the maids towards the doors, but the maids hesitated, looking from her to Ezra, then to the dress. Then they bowed to Ezra and left reluctantly.
Percia knew Ezra didn't like being dressed by others, and would throw a fit if someone tried to force one on him. He liked the fact that she remembered those details about him and cared enough to make sure he was comfortable.
But then again, maybe she just doesn't want to bother with my tantrums. Might as well let the spoiled young lord do what he wants and be on with it.
"How long do we have until the ball?" He asked, inspecting the dress, "I didn't see any of the other Primes around. Isn't this supposed to be the guest quarters for the Primes?" Ezra asked.
He had ventured out a while ago, hoping to explore the palace like an ignorant little country bumpkin; he had heard one of the lesser lords whisper in the hallway outside. After that Ezra had decided to stay in to avoid further embarrassment.
Percia hesitated before answering, but when Ezra gave her an inquisitive look, she had a strange expression.
"I checked with the servants and found out that these quarters are indeed the guest quarters, but for the lesser lord's…" Percia trailed off as Ezra just chuckled.
"Oh, thank God, I was afraid to meet them honestly. Living beside them would be so stressful, maybe the Warden is not as numb to the discomfort of his vassals after all as we've been led to believe."
Percia's gaze trembled slightly as she looked at Ezra hesitantly, "M-my Lord? Are you serious?" She asked, there was no anger in her voice, just utter confusion.
"Hmm? Why won't I be sure?" Ezra asked, shaking his head, "Anyways, you should leave, I'll dress myself now if you don't mind, Percia."
Percia again hesitated before turning to leave, a very troubled expression on her face, but Ezra interrupted her just as she opened the doors.
"Wait, Percia. Is there a partner required for the ball?" He asked, as soon as he said that, his breath caught. Not because of Percia, well, mostly because of Percia, because his moronish self was his biggest enemy, always had been.
Percia turned and her face was back to being the same impassive rock, the same impassive and beautiful rock. The same impassive, beautiful and priceless rock–
Argh, Goddamnit stop that, you idiot!
"Yes, of course, My lord, it's a ball, married couples and the ones who are courting are expected to bring their partners. It's only natural."
"But I'm not courting anyone though." Ezra said it in a nonchalant manner, but his hand, hidden behind, was positively trembling with fear.
"You don't need to be troubled My lord, since–." Percia was cut off as Ezra interrupted her.
Oh well here goes nothing then, well nothing except my dignity if I even had any left..
"Hmm since I don't have anyone here I know, would you like to be my chaperom–"
"It's chaperon, my lord."
"Y-yes that." Ezra held his breath as he said it, cursing himself constantly. He would've slapped himself if not for Percia.
"I'm honoured, My lord, but I'm not a Glorian. Besides, you already have a request from one of the young Glorian women who would like to be your partner tonight."
Ezra played it off like it was no big deal, but something inside him did break, and he collapsed to the floor as his legs gave out after Percia closed the door behind her after leaving.
This isn't Hallhaven, this is hall -hell!