The Duke of Lorraine

[HappyShackles 886]

I Shall Not Falter...

"What does it mean?"

The frigid air of Felsen's winter sliced through the young boy, the Prince. He shivered as his eyes gazed up at the Duke, his wardfather, with sorrow and rage. His cheeks flushed with shame and cold. The Duke looked down at the boy with cold, grey eyes before letting a thin smile stretch across his mouth. He motioned forward as the priestly droning accompanied a beautiful casket of ebony and gold to the ground below.

"You shall learn,"

~

He had hoped to. In his youth, his companions were many. Uilleam and Callum, brothers, trained alongside him under Ser Markus Aveere, a true example of Knighthood. They laughed together in a way Prince Charles had never known before, not with his brothers or anyone else. Yet no such thing could last, and the boy Prince would be found rushing down the Hall of the Imperial Palace, his eyes once again welling with misery.

"Nuncle Godwine! Uilleam, and Markus! Is it true?"

Slain, his cousin Godwine had told him. By whom, no one knew, but they had both been lowered into the ground, and they had both left him.

~

If only his brother had left him. John, the Crown Prince, whom he loved and idolized. Yet, whose voice rang through his mind each day that he awoke, and each night he drifted to slumber. To John, Charles was nothing. Worse than nothing.

"A burden," spoke the Crown Prince. "A child as sensitive and weak-willed as you is better suited a stableboy than a Prince. Let us hope you do not embarrass your family lest I put you with the horses myself."

Charles' face flushed with rage. He rushed into the kitchen quickly, shouting at the handmaiden, Sabia. He ordered her to fetch him a fresh pie, post-haste, though all the while he could all but stare. The girl was beautiful in his eyes, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She had cared for him since he was quite young, and he felt her affection and returned it ten-fold.

Charles snatched the pie from her and wandered into the Hall once again, where his brother still stood. Charles approached the Crown Prince, and waited for his brother to finally turn his condescending gaze towards Charles.

"Would you like some pie, brother?"

And the Crown Prince's face, flushed with rage, was disguised with sweet apples and pie crust.

~

Yet still, even Sabia, even his mother, were not exempt from the misfortune that had plagued him and those he loved. The boy cried once more, screaming with hatred at his father, the very Emperor,

"Where is my mother!?"

Sabia had died the week before, and his mother had held him tightly, comforted him as another had fled from his life without warning. Yet in the blink of an eye, she was gone. His father had removed her entirely, broken their marriage and shipped her off to Kaedrin where Charles knew he may never see her again. The Emperor stared at Charles for a moment with those same cold, grey eyes the Duke had. He pursed his lips and said nothing, and Charles ran.
"Where are you going, boy?"

Jan Kovacs, his wardfather's vassal, and the man to whom he was squire, stood in his way as he sped through the gardens, tears falling from his small eyes like a torrent. Jan pursed his lips at him and smiled.

"Wipe your face and practice your strikes. A Knight does not falter, and especially not a Prince."

~

Yet now, Jan was on his deathbed, and Charles was once again left alone. His father had never given him anything but life and a home before, and he knew it was because he was the weakest of his brothers. So, perhaps it was out of obligation, or pity, but a circlet rested on the young boy's head now as he walked another hall towards a chair that would be his seat, and no others'. Smallfolk and courtiers he had brought with him to assist the young boy in governance crowded the hall and silently observed. The years since the great Augustus had left the land nearly abandoned, but those few who remained could be found here.

"I present to you, Charles Francis Horen, Duke of Lorraine,"

The young Prince turned to face the small crowd and smiled before slowly lowering himself into the chair. The light of the Lorrainian sun struck through the paned glass, showering the room with color. He pursed his lips for a moment, allowing his smile to fade as he nervously stood from the chair. He reached down to his sword belt, taking the hilt of the castle-forged steel and sliding it from it's ebony scabbard. He pointed it towards the ground and spoke,

"I shall not falter."

 

[Guest]

31 minutes ago, HappyShackles said:

 

The light of the Lorrainian sun struck through the paned glass, showering the room with color.
 

 

"Who comes up with these?" says Arthur.

[Ark 2835]

1 minute ago, whitewoods said:

"Who comes up with these?" says Arthur.

The Most Noble Duke Charles Francis, that is who.

[Burkester 1247]

Josef Vladov merely shakes his head.

[whiteferrarii 123]

Jory Marbrand would smile proudly as he hears of such news, his face lit with hope and excitement. "May GOD bless your reign, Your Imperial Grace. GOD bless you."

[Chaqery 427]

"Come to Summerhall ,they said..."

 

"Doesn't rain as much, they said..."

 

Fletcher Byron ran his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to wring out the accumulated water. The drizzle pattered off the roofs of the lazy village below the keep, coalescing into small waterfalls that splashed into puddles in the muddy cobble street below. One such waterfall had thoroughly drenched the lanky physician as he stepped into the doorway of an abandoned residence.

 

"That Duke's a propah geezah though, givin' me a clinic an' all."

 

Before him stood a quaint two story abode, the most promising candidate in the array of current structures for conversion into a place of medicine. Here he would mend the flesh and bone, ward off disease, and teach others to do the same.

 

"Roight geezah indeed."

[SodaiKamikaze 652]

"How." says a black haired lad in orange and blue stripes.

[Vitteman 2]

Barin hears word of the young Charles' rise to the dukedom. He contacts his brother Oain at once, intending to set out to Summerhall to petition its new ruler.

[Gangrel1230 134]

Edward sits in his house contemplating what to do for a living now having been removed from his positions