"Come sit with me," Aunt Marian patted the hard marble seat beside her.

Unlike in Olwick, today we were seated in a domed building. Above us, was a large skylight not protected by anything. Some of the drizzle of the rain that started falling this morning was coming through it and dusting us with moisture.

I looked at her and nodded, then grabbed mother's hand.

"Can we go to sit with Aunt Marian?"

Mother looked down at me, but shook her head. "It wasn't me she invited. Go on. She wants to see her nephew. I'll be right here for you if you need me," mother winked at me and stood up to let me pass by.

We had come this morning to the Temple of the Dawn that was up the river, almost outside of the city, south of the bridge. The inside of the temple was circular, and descended in steps, which doubled as seating, to an altar in its centre and deepest point.

There, the two coffins, one larger and displayed on top of the altar, the other on a shorter table beside it, were opened up.

The face peeking out of the coffin on the shorter table didn't really look like the Sir Barker I remembered. His crown of hair and his wild beard had all been shorn off. His rough skin was a pasty white. Of course, I knew from what father and Saul told me about hunting and the larder that bodies would decompose. It was, in a certain sense, surprising that Sir Barker was even still there and whole.

"Hello Tilly," Lady Marian pat my head as I sat down beside her.

I flinched, as I felt my aunt's touch on my hair. My back straightened and I looked at her, that oddly alluring scent filling my nose.

"Lady Marian, it is an honour."

"No need to be so stiff, nephew. This is already a day of sorrow and formality. You can be at ease with me at least. Let us support one another through this sad time."

"As my wife says, Tilvrade. Please feel among family." Aunt Marian's husband, the Count of Valeford was sitting just beside her. He held his hands out towards me and I was ashamed that it looked like I hesitated before clasping his wrists, taken off guard by the sudden gesture.

"Count Yse."

"Nephew."

It was a great honour for the Count to offer his wrists. Clasping arms was a greeting for equals or usually for family, not something that was commonly done amongst nobles, except perhaps after a duel.

It was a slightly awkward greeting for me though, as one of his bracelets under his coat sleeves poked into my arm. I didn't say anything though and moments later, he looked back to his right to speak with another older man as Aunt Marian motioned for me to sit beside her.

Everyone was seated on the hard marble ledges and not chairs or any special seating, but the Count and Lady Marian both had cushions and were on the very bottom ledge, right near the altar.

"I hear there were troubles on your way to Bridgewater, but you are alright?" Aunt Marian asked me, patting my head again.

Despite wanting to pay my respects and honour Sir Barker who had taught me so much, it's not as if I didn't want to sit with Aunt Marian and Count Yse. I would maybe have preferred the affectionate pat another time, but I was still happy she worried over the bandit yesterday.

"No, it wasn't trouble really. Just a bandit, but father and Saul took care of him quickly."

"I heard the man was right near you when the fight started," she insisted.

I was rather near him, but I don't remember much fighting.

"I guess..." I said, "I think I could have taken him out if Saul didn't though."

He seemed like a bit of a pushover. Even though he had bulky arms, he had hardly even managed to parry Saul's single slash.

Seated now, I looked around as Aunt Marian laughed delicately. From each of the three 4 doors of the temple, men and women streamed in mostly to take seats near the top and highest ledge.

Why was there such a big Church to the Golden Sun here in Bridgewater? Mother definitely wasn't religious but she grew up here, didn't she?

It seemed weird to me.

"Tilly? Sorry, I didn't mean to tease you." Aunt Marian leaned towards me. I must have missed something she said while looking around. "Did something catch your eye?"

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"I thought the Church was Keiranian. Why do we have such a big temple here?" I asked her.

"You weren't taught about the Elafoz?"

I tilted my head in puzzlement. "I know about the Elafoz?"

"No, not who he is. Of course I heard about you meeting His Highness Grairin Mershunt," She placed three fingers on my arm while leaning down to whisper. "The Elafoz, Wikhem Mershunt, second king of Farand. The elves granted to him the title and the rights of trade that still make our kingdom prosper today."

I had learned about Wikhem Mershunt before. Although he was the second king of Farand, he was in many ways more the founder of Farand than his father who had sent him north to make ties with the elves and the Ibolidor. It was not a secret that the first king was more merchant than warrior, following his son North only after he smelled gold in Northern trade.

I hadn't known that there was more to it than that though.

"For the Elafoz's assistance fighting their enemies, the elves shared their knowledge and strength. Fortunately, they gifted to us the Arcanum. Well, not that anyone outside the direct succession of the royal family know exactly what the Arcanum is, but it was based on this text that the kings of Farand revealed that the Two Suns are false gods."

"You mean the Church of the Sun is lying?" I was a bit shocked, considering there did seem to be some things that I resonated with in the Church of the Sun's psalms. I was wary of the Church, since meeting the Klisimian envoy and learning they were from Keiran, but if Sam thought there was something special about the Golden Sun, I had faith in his instincts.

"Lying?" Aunt Marian pinched her lips, "Not lying. Just... true to its... intent, you could say."

"Uh," I tried to think about what she meant, "you mean because the Church is loyal to Keiran?"

My voice trailed off as I noticed my aunt's dainty smile break into a disdainful curl of her lips.

"Listen nephew." She whispered to me, seemingly much more candid than before. "The Church is a yolk to harness both the nobles and the serfs to ignoble ends. And it's not just the Church. This kingdom we live in is not as glorious as you think. Whether here or Keiran, we extol the virtues of nobility, discipline, sword and strengthening, harvest and hard work... these are the same values behind the Church of the Sun."

That all sounded good to me...

"I can see what you're thinking. It sounds worthy, does it not? And yet, it is in these platitudes that all of us are enchained. Whether for marriage or combat or thankless tilling and toil, we train and suffer all our lives just to be discarded as pawns."

I nodded slowly, as my shoulders tensed and eyes opened. Inside, I was shaken by her words. Her sudden drop of tone to a whisper and the passion she put into her close to treasonous words were hard to understand and dark.

Someone had to work, and who would protect us from screechers or bandits if we didn't train and fight?

"You might think nobles have power. Maybe some, like my father do." She whispered a bit less strongly. "But as for the rest of us, we only kid ourselves as we sacrifice our lives. As I'm sure you know, a knight's training is not easy, and the Church supports humility and hard work, and makes us believe it's for a greater cause beyond throwing it away at the King's summoning. The inner echelons of the Church of the Sun might very well be influenced by Keiran, but that's not the real problem. They are just preachers of fiction that limit us, put us under a greater power.”

Just then, a young man stopped at the lowest ledge just near me and bowed to someone coming down the stairs. I looked around and saw an older woman hobbling down the stairs to stand in front of us. She let out a loud huff of exertion, some of the other men and women on the seats behind and above us looking over.

"Lady Overhill, it's a pleasure to see you here." Aunt Marian also noticed the older woman and hurriedly stood up beside me to greet her.

I looked between the two women and noticed the subdued surprise in each of their expressions.

"Lady Marian, Count Verbon," the older lady replied. "Congratulations on your birthday."

The count also stood to greet Lady Overhill, but I didn't see any smiles on either the count or my aunt's faces.

"An honour, Lady Overhill," aunt Marian's husband replied meekly.

"And who is this?"

I had of course stood up as well, careful to stand beside aunt Marian, so as not to be in the way. Fortunately, there was no one sitting on the innermost ledge around the wide altar space, so there would have been room even for another person there. Well, as long as none of them were wearing one of the enormous dresses such as Lady Overhill did in front of us.

"Tilvrade got Olwick," I bowed, as aunt Marian hadn't made any move to introduce me.

I wondered who she was that even the count seemed quite careful around her. Although it looked rather clumsy, I felt almost a kinship with this older woman who wore the old fashion of dress, seeing as many of mother's friends in the capital still hadn't switched over either.

When I looked up again though, the older woman seemed to be sneering at me.

I had bowed, introduced myself, been polite and not presumptuous. What had I done wrong?

"My nephew, Lady Overhill," aunt Marian quickly interjected, taking a half step back, perhaps trying to cover for whatever mistake I made or disassociate herself from me.

Lady Overhill looked back at aunt Marian and her gaze wandered around the temple. She seemed to be thinking about who to greet next as she saw Pricel's father, the lord of Bridgewater and his family.

But just then, her head turned back towards us and she frowned as she looked at me again.

"Oh, your nephew. He's that boy, is he?"

I saw her steal a quick glance once more behind her, this time where mother and father were sitting, glancing towards the four of us, standing here.

"Isgon, I'll join them here. Too many stairs in this horrid place. I'm sure an old lady like me will be forgiven for sending condolences after the ceremony."

The young man from earlier, who seemed to be both servant and bodyguard, placed another cushion down next to where I had been sitting and I realised with trepidation that this old lady had decided to sit beside us.

"Your presence with us is an honour Lady Overhill," Aunt Marian said, not showing any of the discomfort I am sure was on my face. "Will Count Jerstein be joining us too then?"

"Unfortunately my son has pressing matters to attend to and could not make it. I am here on behalf of the family to send our respects," I saw the older lady's lips whiten somewhat as she pressed them together momentarily.

But as they talked about this Count Jerstein, I tensed even further. I knew that name. The Jersteins were one of the most powerful families of Leslie. Mother had taught me about the Dukes and Counts of all the duchies in Farand. That wasn't what was important though. Mother had also told me while talking about the Jersteins that my grandmother was called Kerstilla Jerstein, but I had thought she died a long time ago.