The Queen Dowager sat upon her high-backed chair, a figure of regal authority enveloped in an aura that commanded respect and fear. Yet, to his surprise, she remained silent as he recounted the situation, listening intently without interruption.
Nearly a month had passed since he had left under his lordship's orders. Even so, he hadn't expected the Queen Dowager to extend her hospitality to House Thornbrick, especially after nearly two decades of silence between the two families.
"If I may be so bold, Your Majesty," he began, his voice trembling in a near whisper, "House Thornbrick merely requests that Sir Tomlin remove the poster and offer an apology. His actions have gravely tarnished my master's honor."
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he risked a glance upward. The Queen smiled, though it was a smile in name only—a hollow curve of her lips, devoid of warmth.
"It has been quite some time..." she mused, her voice distant, as though lost in the depths of a long-buried memory.
"That fool has turned to dust, yet he failed to teach his son... Has the House of Khan become so meaningless?" Her sharp gaze locked onto Yanis, and the weight of her words seemed to thicken the air around him.
"I beg your Highness' pardon," Yanis stammered, "This lowly servant took it upon himself to come forward. My lordship meant no disrespect."
In a desperate attempt to calm the storm brewing in the Queen's eyes, Yanis hurriedly produced a chest filled with ducats and delicacies, hoping to placate her growing displeasure.
The Queen remained silent, her expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, she burst into laughter, catching Yanis off guard.
"You're quite admirable," she said, her tone both mocking and amused. "If your answer had been different from what I expected, your head would have rolled." She accepted his offering and gestured for him to sit.
"Baba has truly fallen," she went on, her voice dropping into a near-whisper, as though speaking more to herself than to him.
"I thought it was just a rumor... but for a mortal wench, he left this world. Truly a heartless man! He always did as he pleased."
Though her tone was quiet, it carried the weight of deep memories, a history Yanis quickly recognized—she had known the former Lord intimately.
"So, tell me, lad, who's in charge these days?" the Queen asked, casually taking a bite of the donut.
Yanis had intended to offer Her Majesty a chocolate bar, but Princess Mona had swiped it. With no other option, he had to settle for the donut.
The last drop of nectar Nori provided.
"Lord Baba had twins," Yanis began, his voice more steady now. "The current master is Lord Oga."
"Oga, is it?" she mused, a faint smirk touching her lips as a glimmer of nostalgia softened her expression. "He always did have a terrible knack for choosing names."
For a brief moment, her eyes widened in surprise, savoring the richness of the cream-filled donut as it melted in her mouth. She quickly composed herself, hiding her reaction behind a calm and regal demeanor.
"And I take it you're Lord Oga's retainer?" she inquired.
"It's his younger brother Nuu, your grace, to whom I serve," Yanis corrected.
The Queen raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You must hold quite a position for him to send you, rather than come himself," she mused, but said no more, continuing to savor the taste like none other..
After a pause, she spoke again, her voice measured. "What you've requested isn't impossible. However, a public apology is excessive. While Tomlin may not belong to the royal House, his son Pone is favored by my daughter."
She considered for a moment before continuing, "Instead, I will have Tomlin offer a personal apology. But..." She leaned forward, her gaze sharp and her voice imbued with regal authority.
"Inform the little shit, he must present himself within three years, this is not a suggestion, but a royal summons. This leniency is granted solely because of his late father. You may go now."
The Queen's words hung in the air, final and unyielding.
Yanis bowed deeply and turned to leave, but the Queen's voice stopped him mid-step.
"Wait!" she called out, her voice sharp but laced with curiosity.
Yanis froze, his heart pounding as beads of sweat formed on his brow. He silently cursed Nuu for making such a reckless move. Had she figured it out?
"Why do you carry the blood of a Sanguine? Are you not their brother?" Her words echoed in the air, like a thunderclap that broke the silence.
Yanis stiffened, his face darkening. "How?"
She had struck at the heart of his secret, a truth known only to Lord Oga and Nuu. How could she possibly know? His thoughts raced, searching for an explanation.
"Does my question unsettle you so much, boy?" The Queen's lips curved into a sly smile, though her eyes shone with a piercing, knowing intensity.
Yanis remained silent, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and caution.
"How could I not recognize the likeness of my former lover?" she began, her voice softening as she spoke. She hesitated, as if the memory pained her, then continued, her gaze gentler now. "You may carry those horns and deceive others with your height, but your face... it stirs memories of my youth."
Her words hit Yanis like a blow, awakening something buried deep within him. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his composure, but the weight of her gaze made his silence unbearable.
"How could her grace have been a lover?" he finally asked, his voice tense, barely hiding the tremor of surprise.
"That man had his charm, just as you do..." The Queen chuckled softly, hinting at the connection between him and the Fifth Princess, Mona.
"Yet, you chose your mother's lineage over the Thornbrick name," she remarked, her tone more probing now. "Why?"
"I am my mother's only child, and to honor her sacrifice, I gave up the Nephilim lineage," Yanis replied firmly.
"Ah, such a dutiful son," the Queen mused, her eyes flickering with a touch of intrigue. "You are different. I sense neither hatred nor greed in you, which is rare. If you don't mind sharing, what was it like growing up as his secret child? The Baba I knew loved that human woman to the point of madness. For him to betray her, I find it….strange."
Yanis was caught off guard. Instead of being called a bastard—something he had grown accustomed to hearing—he was met with silence. As a child, other kids often teased him relentlessly about the absence of his father.
"…Not many know my past," the Queen continued, her voice softening. "But at one point... I almost took the surname Thornbrick. That's how close we were before he crossed paths with that wench at an art auction.
I still remember how he looked at her. In that moment, I knew I had lost him." Her gaze drifted, lost in the haze of memory, but she quickly returned to the present, gesturing for Yanis to speak.
Yanis hesitated, gathering his thoughts carefully. "From the way my mother spoke... She was the one who pursued my father, even though she knew he was already married. It didn't matter to her. She believed that, in time, he would open up to her.
She was willing to play the long game. His wife was mortal—what's a hundred or two hundred years to someone like her? Yet, growing up, I often heard her crying at night when he didn't come." Yanis glanced at the Queen, searching her face. She gave a slight nod, urging him to continue.
"As for my childhood, I remember him being there for only a few of my birthdays. Still, my mother and I never lacked anything. But over time, Father grew distant, colder. Rather than finding comfort in my mother, he was consumed by grief.
My mother couldn't bear to watch him sink deeper into sorrow. Years had passed, but nothing she said or did could melt the ice around his heart. She waited for a love that would never return."
His voice trembled, but he forced himself to go on. "One morning, I woke to find a farewell note beside her lifeless body. In the note, she told me to seek out my brothers and not to hate my father. She said he loved me no less than he loved them."
The weight of his words filled the garden with silence, thick with unspoken pain. The Queen's sharp gaze softened, as though she could grasp the depth of his grief.
A bitter smile curled on her lips, her eyes distant, lost in memories. "Men of the Thornbrick they're impossible to forget. I should know." Her voice trembled, carrying the burden of old wounds.
"Women like us—once we fall in love with them, we're bound to heartache, even when we see the trouble ahead." She paused, her expression darkening.
The Queen paused, startled by the wetness on her cheeks. "Tears?" she whispered, confused. "I didn't even cry for my late husband."
Yanis watched in astonishment. This woman, so powerful and composed, had harbored the same unresolved feelings for his father that his mother had.
"The world is changing," she murmured, her voice trailing off as she seemed to drift between the past and present, caught in a moment neither could fully escape.
"I've kept you for too long... That lass must be anxiously waiting outside," she joked as she stood up.
"Their gifts were thoughtful, and the white glaze upon the chocolate donut was delicious. Tell them to bring more during their visitation!" She left as she had arrived, not giving Yanis the chance to bid her goodbye..
There wasn't much he could do. The Queen had caught him off guard, but his mission was complete. All that remained was to head back home. Yet, would that be possible?
Before him stood Princess Mona the II, her presence arresting. Draped in a delicate, translucent gown that shimmered under the light. Her skin gleamed as if touched by the softest oils. Mona's figure, flawless and captivating, made his breath catch in his throat, Yanis heart quickened.
Each curve of hers was even more outrageous, such a slutty body designed to draw men in like a siren and he was ensnared, She had pulled him into the depths.
He could do nothing but stare, overwhelmed, as a wave of emotions surged. Yet, he knew better, this succubus didn't desire a relationship, but the excitement of mindless sex.
"You can't be thinking of slipping away….not without a few more days could you?" Her sultry voice caressed his ears, as her flowing, lustrous white hair danced in the wind.
Yanis had no other choice. As his resolve hardened, he towered like a mountain. "You asked for this," he grunted, pushing the seductive princess's face down onto the table, his voice filled with determination.
Jasmine's eyes sparkled with a strange beauty as she watched the scene unfold. "Such fond memories," she mused, her gaze unblinking, a touch of nostalgia softening her expression.
"You're shameless," Royal Consort Neve muttered, her tone dripping with disdain. "I didn't expect voyeurism to be one of your... hobbies. Especially when it comes to watching your daughter."
Jasmine remained unfazed, her lips curling into a slight smile. "How does that concern you, Neve? Yet here you are, watching as well.
A restless soul like yours should be careful—lest you find yourself in the arms of a lowly eunuch," she warned, her voice smooth and sharp. "Best to let me enjoy myself, if you still wish to keep your dignity intact."
Neve huffed in response, crossing her arms defensively. "Hmph! At least I'm not the lonely woman watching her child," she shot back, her pride stinging under Jasmine's calm retort. She couldn't stand this two-faced annoyance any longer and departed. 'Just you wait, I'll have you on a leash.'
As the two women bickered, another figure observed the scene for a brief moment before turning away with a sigh. "Like father, like son," she whispered to herself as she made her way to yet another dull meeting to hear updates about the newly established dynasty. Her envoy had returned.
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Once teeming with life and clear streams, the lush green plains had turned into a wasteland, littered with ashes and rotting remains. The Tricows, once the pride of the land with their immense, sturdy frames, had become emaciated, their ribs stark against their skin.
These beasts, once vital to the survival of Lunn Town and the vast Western Plain, could no longer stand tall. Weak, they struggled to support their weight.
The eruption had wrought havoc on the land, reducing once fertile plains to fields of bones and desolation. In their desperation, some residents of Lunn had even resorted to cannibalism, the ultimate sign of their despair.
But it was the dark red cloud that hung menacingly over the region that struck fear into the hearts of all who saw it. This was no ordinary cloud.
The toxic gases and ash from the eruption of Mount Selen had poisoned the land and air, crippling the local economy. Merchants refused to travel through the devastated plains, and trade dwindled.
Lunn Town, once a thriving hub, was now on the verge of collapse, the Lord Baron had long departed. Refugees from neighboring areas flooded into the town, desperate for shelter and food. But there was nothing left to offer.
Starvation gripped the streets, and the scarcity of resources led to violence. Fights broke out daily, as the townspeople struggled to survive in a world that had turned cruel and unrecognizable.