As he walked from his quarters, through the great hall of the Citadel, he pondered the state of his family. The were a starving camel, but still obviously bigger than a horse.
The Citadels were lonely, only the distant clang of the cold hard boots on bleached white stone made rang through it. The castle was dreary and bleak, devoid of the noble opulence that once graced its halls.
It fit this atmosphere actually. The Military Citadel had no use for embellishments. Absorbed in his thoughts the scenery flew by as he headed for the stables. The Distance was walkable, but Irik never missed a chance to ride his mighty steed if he could help it.
Night was a pitch black Stallion, with red eyes and a menacing presence. It was purely decorative of course. In Irik's opinion, despite the horse's slight affinity with darkness he was a virtual teddy bear.
Night matched well with Eve, Mira's steed they were procured at the same time after all. Eve was a mare, but she had a different kind of affinity, being a deep shade of blue. It was a water affinity horse.
Together they made the sound of hoof-beats on cobblestones ring out across the stables, then the courtyard and the Bridge.
It took them a full 20 minute to cross the bridge at a full on gallop. And that was without the stops. There were 3 checks on the large ancient bridge. One at both ends and then one at the center.
Of course, to Irik and Mira, these were more like obstacle courses. Where would the soldiers buy the kind of guts it'd take to stop the pair? Plus they had been taking this trip multiple times most days for the better part of half a decade now.
After leaving the weathered dark gray stonework of the mist-covered bridge. The pair tuned up one of the trails exclusively used for royalty. This allowed them to bypass the entirety of the Citadel and directly arrive in the inner courtyard of the heir apparent, where a small stable had been built.
A couple servants were there, ready to help them disembark and tend to the horses. Of course they had already been trained for years with the steeds. Both Night and Eve were so prideful they disdained letting any but their riders touch or even get near them. As for the stable hands? Why be prejudiced against one's own property?
Mira and Irik did all of this in stoic silence. In fact, since leaving Irik's room, they had been silent and almost robotic in their movement. They were cold in behavior and even the looks they gave sent chills down their servant's spines.
Like they were totally above them. Like it was the servant's fault for being so inferior, and they could never touch upon that level. They just exuded that level of confidence. It was almost suffocating, pure, true, aura.
The moment they walked in to the dining room, it was like gravity had intensified. Servants were bustling about, setting up the table.
The Baron already sat at the head. He was a slim man with an intense air about him. His skin was pale and he wasn't tall. He had an air of refined grace about him, like he hid the mysteries of the universe about him.
He looked like the stereotypical mage.
He was not.
He was a berserker knight.
One of the strongest in the kingdom in fact.
And to his right was his first wife, the baroness. She was the daughter of an Earl, the Baron's staunchest opponent in court in fact. She was the Bright Matriarch. She wasn't known for her strength, but her ability to control logistics, trade and administration. She was a mage.
Directly opposite her was the second wife. She, on the other hand was not from their kingdom of Vaught. She was from Catatonia, the kingdom they bordered. In fact the border was between The Albrecht and her Bloodmane Dukedom. That's right, Ossenia was an actual princess.
It had been a political marriage to quell tensions, and no one expected the first son to be between them, even less for the Baron to actually declare Irik heir apparent. That's right. She was Irik's mother.
She had 3 children, while the matriarch had 2. Each of them sat with their 2 children on their side of the table. Each of them had their attendants stand behind them. They were ramrod straight, but didn't look uncomfortable. Instead they oozed grace.
They were all dressed in the house colors, gold, white and purple. Even though purple was reserved for royalty, who was able to deny their roots? None were more noble than the Albrechts, not even the current Monarchs.
"You disgrace yourself with your tardiness, young one." A deep voice rang out.
It was the Baron. His voice was a deep baritone, laden with Authority. It reverberated like the sub woofers from earth did to some healthy bass drops. It was completely out of match with the Baron's almost dainty look.
"Apologies father. This one saw it befitting to take just a bit more time to take in the domain this morning. The 2nd squad was a bit disorderly this morning in their roll call. I was taking notes."
"Is that an excuse I hear? Do you dare?" The Baron replied.
"Father that was not my intentio-" Irik began but he was cut off.
"So now you suggest that I could be wrong. Am I wronging you, son? Are you going to tell your mother and grandfather?" He asked, hint of rage seeping into his voice.
His presence poured out, pressing on Irik, being overbearing and suffocating him. Irik paled, but he dared not bow or submit. Even as beads of sweat trickled down his face and back he kept his eyes locked onto the steely gray eyes of the Baron. He was the heir, backing down might make it worse.
The other children looked at him with hints of schadenfreude.
"Husband, mind the presence of some, well, non-familiar people." The matriarch said. Her voice cool but hiding a subtle undertone of excitement and glee.
"Very well. Leave us." The Baron said.
Immediately the servants left, the table was set and all that was left was to serve the food anyways. They walked out, some visibly relieved, others reluctant. This was some premium grade tea they were leaving. In less than a minute, the small dining room was just left with only the Albrechts, and their attendants.