699. Kingmaker VIII

699. Kingmaker VIII

Duke Moonglow felt his heart pound heavily in his chest, though it struggled to pump. It was one thing for Adam to be utterly baffled by the appearance of such a stranger, but it was another thing for even his trio of companions to react. Whoever this new being was, he was definitely trouble, even more trouble than Adam. Thankfully, the stranger stepped to one side at Adam’s insistence, beside the young Duke’s retainers.

Duke Moonglow inhaled deeply. “It was the son of Saul who became the first King of Volar thousands of years past, far to the east.” His words cut through the air sharply, like a honed blade, gathering all the attention upon him once more. “I have no wishes to become the King of Volar, for it is a burden I cannot bear. However, with your assistance, I will claim the title of King Matteas Moonglow, King of all of Maronia.”

Adam noted how quickly everyone straightened up at such a declaration. He assumed it was because the Duke wanted to become a king, and so readied himself to support the lord in his endeavours. Though that man was here, Adam was certain the Iyrmen would keep an eye on him.

The lord had been eager to speak of the stranger, but with such a declaration, their thoughts turned to what Duke Moonglow had stated. Maronia?

“Maronia is the heritage of my family,” a young noble called. He was pale of skin, dark of hair, and his eyes deep grey. He wore a cloak, deep black, one of the few nobles to do so, though he was the only noble who dared to wear a cloak which was entirely black, without another colour to mar it’s richness.

“The tides of history ebb and flow,” Duke Moonglow stated. “Once your family ruled over the old kingdom as peerless kings. Your family ruled after the time of the Ficians and the Arazians, and after such a time came the Taemuns. Still, it was the Marons who built the greatest empire, in which all our beliefs have formed.”

“That does not take away from the fact that Maronia is the heritage of my family,” the young noble stated firmly. “No one else may claim the kingdom of Maronia, save my own family.”

“I would dare not deny you your rights to the kingdom, and so I ask that your family take the role of the Stewards of Maronia.”

The young noble inhaled deeply to refute the statement, but noted how the Duke bowed his head lightly, raising his brows expectantly. The air fell silent for a long moment, just enough time for someone else to quickly change the pace.

“Duke Moonglow, you speak of Maronia before you speak of the stranger in our midst?” Duke Ironrock stated, taking a step forward to draw attention to him. He was a young man, with milky white skin, amber eyes, and hair the colour of ash. “Strangers standing among strangers, standing among the retainers for the most important ceremony in generations.”

The lords nearby grumbled in approval.

Duke Moonglow’s eyes slowly shifted to the side, towards the stranger. “It seems the lords are at unease at your presence, stranger. At the very least, should you not introduce yourself?”

“I did not mean any offence,” the stranger said, bowing his head slightly as the crow shifted back as to now appear to be bowing. “I am known as Crowseer.”

“Who is the young woman at your side?”

“I’m-,” the young woman started to reply.

“You may call her Kiara,” Crowseer stated, flashing a smile towards the gathered lords.

“Who is she anyway?” Adam asked, far too casually for Moonglow’s likings. “Is she your daughter?”

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Duke Moonglow blinked. He was certain Adam had been unnerved by the figure, and yet he was speaking so casually to this stranger known as Crowseer?

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I have come to speak with you,” Crowseer said.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you here to complain about what I’ve done?”

“You’re risking your life to cause trouble,” Adam grumbled quietly, annoyed that his plan had been derailed.

“To hear that from you...” Crowseer smiled.

“Look at how tense you’ve made my brother,” Adam said, tutting towards the mysterious figure who had been plaguing him this year.

Jurot remained glaring at Crowseer, who had promised to remain within the Iyr.

“Perhaps I received permission to come?” Crowseer asked.

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

“You wound me, Adam.”

Adam shook his head. “I’ll deal with you later.” He rubbed his forehead. “Let’s get to crowning Duke Moonglow as the King and then I can sort out everything else.”

“You are all from a foreign force?” Duchess Cloudhill asked.

“We are foreign, but we’re not here on business from our people,” Adam replied. “Well, not our people, their people, but don’t worry about that.”

“You see? A foreigner plots amongst our midst.” Duke Ironrock held out a hand towards the nearby lords.

“You are perhaps the stupidest noble I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing,” Adam said, cracking his neck. “You should have accepted your title in peace, but you just had to keep pushing me. All you needed to do was wait. I would have left by the end of the year, and if you wanted to rebel, you could have done it then. I wouldn’t have been able to help the King keep his title, and you could have spent some effort in trying to take his crown. Instead, you decided to pick a fight while I was still around. Not just me, but my brother and companions, each of whom are twice as powerful as your greatest of knights. Twice, meaning two, which just so happens to be the number of Night Lords we’ve managed to deal with.”

“Lord Adam,” Duke Moonglow called. “You have said too much.”

“No,” Adam said. “I haven’t said enough. Once the ceremony is over, you better return to your castle, Duke Ironrock, and enjoy your last few days there, because I’m going to come and burn it down. I don’t want your title, I don’t want your castle, I don’t want anything to do with your land. I’m coming for one thing, and one thing only, and that’s your life.”

Jaygak placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, causing him to turn his head, his entire face hot red with rage, tense. He wasn’t going to draw his axe here, for he couldn’t set the precedent of blood being spilled here in the ceremony. There was too much at stake for the future of the world. If a rogue lord here started a fight, it meant there could be no hope for a stable future.

“Is this why we have gathered? For we great nobles to act at the whims of a foreigner?” Duke Ironrock shouted.

Duke Moonglow reached up towards his chest. He could feel it tighten, the stress of the situation filling him with greater dread as he tried to pull away from the darkest embrace.

“How is it that you feel so free and open to speak when my grandfather showed you such honour?” called a voice from behind the Duke.

The attention of all those gathered, from the lords to the commoners, turned towards the young handsome fellow, his hair like liquid copper, his eyes emerald green, his ears leaf shaped.

“I told you to retire,” the young, heavily armoured Prince stated, stepping forward towards his father, placing a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “If I was in charge, do you think they would have dared to step out of line?”

Duke Moonglow stared towards his grandson, who had caused him so much trouble, and yet had come along during his last campaign. He had proved to be a bother with his words, fighting with him in front of the other nobles. Yet, when it came time to fight on the field, he was there, blade in hand.

Duke Moonglow then turned to face Adam, his entire body stiff as a statue. “Please,” he began, before he found his strength fading. Prince Moonglow felt his grandfather’s body slump, quickly catching him into a hug.

Adam’s eyes went wide, realising he had just heard the last words of the Duke, and gasps filled the area as the first legitimate Duke in generations fell.

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