Lady Vera Salvatore-Verena knew she should have been used to this type of pressure. She’d been to innumerable noble events, ceremonies like this included. However, none of that vast experience seemed to help her at the moment.
She wasn’t unaware of what the source of her anxiety was, she just couldn’t do anything about it.
For one thing, she had taken it upon herself to plan and coordinate everything, while not technically being the one in charge. The situation itself precluded her usual level of control over events as her success was intrinsically tied to her new lord’s hosting abilities.
And it was her new lord that was the real problem. It wasn’t all that long ago that she had met the young man, and since then his rise has been both improbable and rapid in a way that continuously unsteadied her worldview. Not that she blamed him for it, not really.
She liked him well enough, even thought of him as a friend and potential ally. Had there been more time to get to know him, she more than likely wouldn’t have any reason to feel this unbalanced. Yet, fate didn’t seem to want to give her enough time to adjust.
Whether she was ready to accept it or not, their dynamic had irrevocably changed. Where she had once been in the stronger social position, now she had somehow found herself as the weaker party. She was merely a lady in a house beholden to his. While unlikely, propriety required her to show subservience to him, to treat him as a superior.
What made it worse was that she knew he didn’t understand the social complexities involved. Not only that, he refused to learn about them. So now, here she was, planning a founding ceremony for him, having to rely on him not to embarrass both their houses in front of the entire city’s nobility.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mrs. Warren, the estate manager she had hired for her new lord, approaching.
Preempting what she was going to say, Vera asked, “Yes? What is it?”
Unflustered, Mrs. Warren replied, “Most of the nobility has already arrived and have been shown to the main hall. Food and drinks are already being served, and from the looks of it, it seems that it was a good idea to err on the side of caution and overestimate how much we needed to prepare. It seems as if most of the city’s power base has made an appearance.”
Unsurprised, Vera nodded briefly before asking, “Anything else?”
Stepping a little closer, Mrs. Warren lowered her voice to a whisper, “Yes, my lady. We may need to deploy more relays for all the potential adherents. The area we reserved for them will likely be insufficient to contain their numbers. Already more applicants have appeared than we have registrations for.”
Slightly widening her eyes in reply, Vera tried to keep calm. “More? But didn’t we post a hard limit on the recruitment page?”
Nodding seriously, Mrs. Warren replied, “Yes, we did. However, from what some of the staff have overheard, it seems that Lord Walker’s declaration of his house’s intent has inspired many people to follow him. There has been more than one comparison made to some of the speeches the first king and several of the founders had made during the founding of Oglivarch. The people seem to believe that Lord Walker will be like one of the great legends come again, and following him will see them participating in a new, greater city’s founding at some point. They want to experience where his path will lead them.”
Feeling the urge to rub her temples in annoyance, Vera said, “Well, as long as they follow the agreed upon precepts, I don’t suppose we can just send them away. If they are truly willing to give up their lives to follow him, we have no justifiable reason to deny them. If we did, we’d be lambasted by the public opinion and they’d probably just end up following him anyway.”
Her face stoic and calm, Mrs. Warren replied, “That would most likely be the case, yes.”
Changing the subject, Vera asked, “Have you heard from the evaluators?”
Nodding, Mrs. Warren replied succinctly, “Yes, they’ve arrived with the order’s grandmaster. The matter with the charges against Lord Walker has been resolved, and the first payment toward the completion of the quest has already been awarded. Also, it seems that the Royal Academy has decided to certify Lord Walker’s status as a unique, bypassing the need for any further inquiry. Surprisingly, the evaluator team has stated their intentions to become Lord Walker’s adherents as well.”
Shocked, Vera asked, “Really? All of them? They’re willing to give up their citizenships at the capital?”
Replying quickly, Mrs. Warren said quietly, “It appears so. They’ve also registered their accounts and agreed to the equity transfer. I’m not sure why, but they are adamant about tying their futures to Lord Walker. However, I’ve been told they are still restricted from acting in support of his efforts here due to their level disparity.”
Thinking quickly through the ramifications of what she’d just heard, Vera muttered, “Well, of course they would be. That aside, the amount of money they’ll be injecting into House Walker’s coffers is enough to open up a myriad of future opportunities. As former citizens of the capital, their individual wealth most likely dwarfs the worth of every noble in Dorchester combined.”
Appearing out of nowhere right next to them, Academian Quincy said, “That would more than likely be true.”
Stifling their surprise well, both women turned to look at the academian’s smirking face with equally cool looks demonstrating how unamused they were with the man’s sudden appearance.
Offering them both a polite nod of apology, Academian Quincy continued, “Now that we’ve formally left the Royal Academy, I’m free to tell you that we came to Dorchester specifically to follow Lord Walker.”
Confused, but hiding it well, Vera replied, “But, why?”
The centuries-old man’s eyes looked every bit his age at the moment when he replied, “Because we believe that he sees the world in a way we cannot. So much of what he says and does is dismissed as rhetoric and misunderstood by those who witness it. Yet, despite that, we know that there is wisdom behind every one of his actions. Many people in the capital are following his story, choosing to emulate the principles he espouses with his every waking breath.
He is known there as The Walker, and his passion for life and unflinching pursuit of his personal goals is nothing short of inspirational. Once, long ago, we as a people were dedicated solely to personal development, coming together to forge a society that stood for individual greatness. We rewarded hard work and success with responsibility, culling from our leadership those who only desired power over others. Somewhere along that path, we’ve lost our way.
The Walker is someone who leads from the front. He doesn’t require anyone to give up their lives for him, but his very presence gives them meaning when they do. He’s like a bright and shining light in the distance, showing us the way. For that, we will follow him, and in so doing, find our own path through the world.”
Stunned at the man’s declaration, Vera gulped once to clear her throat. “I had no idea that his legend had already spread that far. Have you all really decided to give up all that your long years have earned, just for the chance to follow him?”
Replying with a subtly mocking tone, he said, “What good are resources when our paths are stagnating? Our inner sense of adventure is what drives us, and The Walker has made it clear that’s what being a wacko is all about.”
Dropping his serious expression, he changed his tone to forcibly break the moment’s tone, “Well, enough of that for now. We have a ceremony to partake in. This is the first founding of a unique house in over 100 years. People will be watching recordings of this for quite some time, so let’s be sure to enjoy it.”
Without another word, his form seemed to ripple until he disappeared from their sight.
Turning to Mrs. Warren, Vera said seriously, “Let’s get those extra relays set up promptly, and make sure everything is in order. We can’t afford any mistakes, the eyes of the entire kingdom will be watching.”
Nodding seriously in response to Lady Salvatore-Verena’s words, Mrs. Warren replied, “Of course, my lady. I will see to it personally.”
—--
After enjoying a shower in the incomprehensible ‘rain’ area of his bathroom, Nero dried himself off with one of the 30 or so strategically placed towels hanging all over the place. Shaking his head in amusement, he couldn’t decide if whoever had designed this room was a genius or a madman.
Now clean and ready to start his day, he stood in front of one of the numerous mirrors, trying to decide whether or not to follow the recommendation Vera sent for what he should wear. The schedule she’d sent had him wearing the same formal robes he’d worn to his visit to the keep, this time modified to display his house colors. Unfortunately, she hadn’t included her reasoning as to ‘why’ he needed to wear them.
Most likely, she’d just assumed he wouldn’t have cared. And normally, she’d have been right. But this time, Nero was trying to think ahead. He’d be on display for the first time in a formal setting as Lord Walker, and how he presented himself would set the tone for how the nobles saw him, not to mention whoever else ended up seeing the ceremony.
Much like the time when he’d given his oath to Dorchester, Vera had kept the instructions as simple as possible. Nero could tell she only included what she felt he needed to know. He really should have read the damn thing before he went to sleep last night. It would have given him time to formulate some questions and prepare.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t have even if he wanted to. His link had been right where he’d left it… on top of his magic satchel… on the floor of the bathroom.
Figuring that he might as well get in the habit of using his link, he sent a ping out to Vera, chuckling to himself at both how simple and how unused to the process he was.
Almost immediately, the connection snapped open. Vera’s presence appeared in his mind like a wall of tightly wound emotions. He could tell she was forcibly suppressing her anxiety and stress, keeping herself calm by sheer stubborn force of will.
“Good morning, my lord. What can I do for you?” she asked somewhat tersely.
Nero rolled his eyes at her forced unfamiliarity. “I just wanted to know if I really needed to wear the fancy robes you suggested. Like, is it mandatory or something? Because I was thinking that it might be better to wear my armor,” he said.
While doing an amazing job of keeping her anger in check, she replied, “And why would you want to wear your armor? Are you expecting combat?”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“No, not really. I just think that I don’t want to look like a typical noble. After all, I don’t plan on being one, now do I… I’d rather present myself honestly. Also, on that note, I’m not going to be using the welcoming speech you prepared. I don’t think it sends the right message,” he said firmly.
Nero could practically feel her emotional control slipping. “Very well, my lord. Wearing noble robes and giving a welcoming speech is merely tradition. If you choose not to follow it, then that is your right. Is there anything else you’re intending to change with the ceremony?” she asked.
He could feel her getting close to snapping, so Nero replied quickly, “No, that’s it. Thank you for all your hard work. I’ll be where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be there… So, don’t worry. I promise not to embarrass you or anything… probably.”
Not waiting for a response, he cut the connection and then performed a full-bodied shiver. ‘God damn that woman is intimidating. I could feel the temperature dropping when she wasn’t even in the room!’ he thought to himself.
Taking what she had said as permission, Nero got dressed in the new leather armor he’d gotten after the supplies had been delivered. While throwing his link in his pocket, he wondered why no one ever thought of putting them on a chain and wearing them as a necklace. It shouldn’t be that uncommon to not have to have it attached to their head. Although, most people he’d seen still wore theirs, and he might be wrong in assuming it was just the fashion.
Standing in front of the mirror, he ruffled his hair a few times to make it look more ‘effortlessly arranged’. Evaluating himself from a few angles, he adjusted the strap on his satchel so it sat more comfortably on his hip. When he was done, he gave his reflection a couple of finger guns and wink before heading out.
Back in his room, Ms. Davis had arranged his breakfast on one of the tables and was now standing a few feet away from where he assumed he was supposed to sit, looking every bit the cliched servant she was. Nero, not knowing how he should treat her, offered her a nod of thanks before sitting down and digging in. While he ate, he did his best to ignore her, as he had more important things to worry about, and a limited amount of time to worry about them.
As he powered through his breakfast, he thought about what he was going to say in his speech. He thought about whether or not he should write something down, but in the end decided to just mentally prepare the bullet points and try to speak from the heart. He’d never been much of an over-preparer, and he wasn’t going to start now.
By the time he was done, he still had an hour before he had to be in the ‘main hall’... wherever that was. Rather than wait and chance being late, he asked Ms. Davis to lead him there. However, the moment he did, the doors to his room opened, allowing Mr. Cochran to enter along with another woman Nero hadn’t met.
“Good morning, my lord. May I present Mrs. Tilly Warren, The Walker Estate’s manager,” Mr. Cochran said while gesturing to his left.
Nero could see from the start that the woman had a lot in common with Vera. Her face was both stern and angular, the very image of aristocratic ‘bitch-face’. Her light brown hair was elegantly arranged in a braid that wouldn’t look out of place at a formal dinner. Even her robes were fine enough to make everyone in the room with her feel underdressed. She looked at most, 35 or 40, but Nero could just feel that she was likely much older than that. Her bright blue eyes were hard and judgemental, somewhat like a schoolteacher’s. And her rigid posture made Nero unconsciously stand up straighter in response.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord. The ceremony is on schedule, and guests have already begun to arrive. The call to service has been more successful than we thought it would be, and we’ve had to arrange a few extra groupings as a result. Most likely, we should still be able to get through everyone today, but we’ll have to see how many more last-minute arrivals there are. Do you have any questions concerning your role in the ceremony, or was the prepared schedule sufficient?” she asked in a calm and steady voice, sounding very much like an auctioneer explaining how the event she’d planned would proceed.
Feeling a little awkward in the presence of such overwhelming formality, Nero replied, “No. No questions. I’m ready to go, I guess.”
He saw the barest flicker of her eyes toward his armor as she silently judged what he’d decided to wear. However, she didn’t let her feelings show, even in her essence field. Her emotional control was top-notch, almost robotic.
“Very well, my lord. If you will please follow me, I’ll show you to the preparatory hall,” she said before turning tightly on her heel and walking off.
Nero shared a glance with Mr. Cochran, who returned it with one of confusion. Thinking to himself, ‘Sure, apparently I’m the only one who thinks she’s wound tighter than a hairball? This is really going to take some getting used to.’
Walking through the hallways in silence, Nero could feel the ether in the house vibrating with expectations and excitement. The servants he saw barely paused on their way, merely offering him a slight bow before running off to complete whatever task they were doing. He didn’t see Nick, Vera, or anyone else he recognized, and their absence was starting to make him nervous.
Before long, he found himself waiting in another ridiculously large and ornate room. This one was filled with just as many chairs and couches as his bedroom, but this time arranged in rows like a meeting room. There were several pieces of art on the wall, each displaying landscapes of Dorchester from various towers and buildings.
He’d hoped to find someone he knew waiting for him, but instead found nothing but silence. Even Mrs. Warren didn’t bother to stick around. She’d merely told him that the ceremony would start in 23 minutes and he’d be called to the main hall sometime after that. Without another word, she’d given him a very delicate bow of her head before leaving, closing the door firmly behind her. Considering how large the door was, the sound of it shutting was enough to make Nero flinch.
Not knowing what to do with himself, he found himself walking around the room, looking at the paintings. One in particular caught his eye. It was what he thought might be an oil painting, as his artistic knowledge was limited to a few Bob Ross shows he’d watched while getting high with his friends in high school.
He’d never seen a painting this large up close. Or, if he had, he certainly didn’t remember it.
Like the others, it was of Dorchester, but something about it seemed different to him. Taking a closer look, he saw that it showed the city at dawn, with heavy shadows contrasting sharply with the reflected light off the tops of the buildings. He could see tiny people shown on the streets, the attention to detail rather breathtaking. Yet something about the painting called to him, urging him to look deeper.
Having gotten familiar with delving, and him being who he was, he didn’t think for a second about the consequences before reaching out with his mind and connecting with the painting’s identity. As he did, his eyes widened in shock as not just his mind, but also the painting responded to his essence mingling with the painting. While he could ‘sense’ what was happening, he could also watch it happen in real-time on the canvas in front of him.
Like watching a movie reel made up of individually crafted paintings, the scene in front of him changed. It started from the city before dawn broke, the buildings shrouded in shadow. Then, all at once, the first rays of light reached the city, bathing it in a new day. Along with the light, there was an omnipresent feeling of hope and promised potential that rang out in the ether. He could feel it.
Somehow, he just knew that this had been painted before the city had suffered the rebellion. Even through the delve, he could sense the potent essence flowing through the city. Whoever had painted this had wanted to show that Dorchester was on the rise… and that it would stand in defiance of the darkness.
Then, it was over. His senses were once again back under his control and he yanked his mind away from the delve harshly.
Stumbling back from the painting, he looked at the landscape in shock. Never in either of his lives had he felt something so moving and thought-provoking. It was like the first time he’d seen the end of Shawshank Redemption, but a thousand times more powerful. Had anybody been around, it wouldn’t have mattered, as he was speechless.
For long minutes, he just stood in awe of the painting, reveling in the memory of what he’d experienced. The painter had imbued such strong emotions into the work. There was pride there, at what the citizens had built, and what the city would one day become.
His internal revelations were interrupted by the sound of the door to the room opening. Reluctantly turning away from his new favorite painting, he saw Vera standing alongside two servants entering the room.
“My lord, it is time,” she said in that forced professional tone she’d recently adopted.
Nodding absently, he replied, “Alright, I’m ready.”
As he walked across the room to meet her in the middle, he looked over his shoulder one last time at the painting, still in awe of how freaking cool it was. Turning to Vera, he was about to ask her if she’d ever experienced a painting like that, but he stopped himself. Something about the question just didn’t seem right. Either he wanted to keep it to himself for the time being for some reason, or it just wasn’t the right moment to bring it up.
Regardless, he needed to get his head in the game and focus on the here and now. He was going to be presented as the head of House Walker in front of the entirety of the nobility while receiving the life oaths of everyone who’d expressed an interest in following him. Before now, it was all, in his head, theoretical. But now, after today, he would forever be Lord Walker, ironically named one of the unique lords of Oglivarch, with his primary holdings in Dorchester.
As he followed Vera through a door on the opposite wall he hadn’t noticed, he thought to himself, ‘Well, it’s time to accept my role as a fancy pants. Now I just have to make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of fancy pants I’m going to wear. I’m going to be THE Lord Walker, the HEAD wacko of all the wackos!’
Walking through the doors, his mental pep talk was interrupted by the sight of the main hall coming into focus. Calling it massive would be an understatement.
The triangular ceiling was held up by arches supported by pillars running down both sides of the room. Essence lights attached to ornate shining steel chandeliers ran along the center. While the width of the room was more than impressive, it was the length of the room that really shocked him. It was nearly as long as the throne room in the keep… maybe longer. Either way, the sides of the room were filled with people in fancy robes, being served drinks from servants holding silver trays. A large open area was in front of what could only be called a throne on an elevated platform. Nero was sure no one would argue if he referred to it as a dais.
Nero had come from the side and was being led up onto the stairs toward the center of the dais. To the side of the throne stood Cathleen, Angleton, and the others. Each of them was dressed in their finery, even Knight Angleton wearing a robe bearing House Walker’s colors.
A memory of someone telling him that Angleton wouldn’t be able to wear anything other than armor due to his oaths came to mind, but Nero didn’t remember the details. His best guess was that now that he was out of the army, the rule no longer applied, but he wasn’t entirely sure, nor was it the time to ask him about it.
Regardless, it was only a fleeting thought, as he was more focused on the fact that everyone in the room… hundreds of people… they were all staring at him. Just like when he’d given his oath to Dorchester at the keep, he felt the weight of the moment bearing down on him.
Mentally calling up the schedule and instructions Vera had sent him through the link, Nero took his place in front of the throne on the dais. Looking out over the people arrayed throughout the room, he thought to himself, ‘Well, if I ever in the future think that being a noble isn’t that big of a deal, then the memory of this moment ought to remind me to get my head out of my ass.’
Trying to maintain a calm outward appearance, Nero followed the instructions and turned to Vera, giving her a visible nod as he clasped his hands behind his back.
From the side of the room, Vera walked over to the area just in front of him below the dais. Nero held back a smirk at seeing her looking so prim and proper. He’d seen the woman roll her eyes enough at him not to be able to take her seriously, despite how professional she looked right now.
“Lords and nobles of Dorchester. We’re gathered here today to witness the formal founding of House Walker as a noble house, not merely of Dorchester, but of all of Oglivarch. As a unique, Lord Walker will lead his house in service and defense of not just our city, but of the entire kingdom.
The men and women who have chosen to follow him today will give up their citizenship to our great city, choosing to forever join their paths with Lord Walker’s. It is a difficult path to give up all that they’ve built to follow a unique lord into the unknown.
Luckily for us, Lord Walker has taken up a quest from our council of leadership, pledging to aid us in our time of need. But that service is temporary, and the oaths given today will not be. So, to all you nobles here, and all the potential adherents who are listening outside, I would like to thank you for coming and witnessing this historic event.
Now, to welcome you and to say a few words, I give you Lord Walker… first of his house and our kingdom’s newest unique!” she said loudly, projecting her voice throughout the hall with essence.
Suddenly, Nero realized that he didn’t know how to make his voice do that. Quickly looking over the schedule, he realized he was supposed to be giving his welcoming speech after she was done introducing him.
‘Well shit… if someone doesn’t provide me a mike stand or something, this is going to get real frickin’ awkward… real frickin’ quick,’ he said to himself with no small amount of panic.