Chapter 3: The House of Altheim

The Von Altheim Family

Lukas awoke to the chirping of birds and the soft rays of the morning sun filtering through his curtains. As the warmth bathed the room in a golden glow, Lukas stared at the ceiling, his thoughts a tumultuous mix of confusion and determination. The realization that he was now a young boy in a minor noble family still weighed heavily on him, a stark contrast to the formidable patriarch he once was.

The door creaked open, and a maid entered, carrying a tray of food. She moved with quiet efficiency, her demeanor respectful. “Good morning, young master Lukas,” she greeted with a warm smile. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better,” Lukas replied, his voice rough from disuse.

The maid placed the tray beside him, bowing slightly. “The Duke and Duchess asked me to ensure you have everything you need. If there’s anything else, please let me know.”

Lukas nodded, glancing at the tray—a bowl of steaming porridge, fresh bread, and fruit. As he ate, he contemplated his new reality. This world was alien to him, but the principles of power remained unchanged. He needed to understand the dynamics of this place, this family, before he could begin to navigate it.

After finishing his meal, Lukas dressed, the unfamiliar weight and proportions of his new body serving as a constant reminder of his altered circumstances. The clothes, though finely made, felt strange against his skin, far removed from the robes of authority he once wore. Determined to learn more, he made his way downstairs, his steps quiet on the polished wood floors.

The manor was grand but modest compared to the opulent palaces he had known. Portraits of stern ancestors lined the walls, their expressions etched with the same determination he had seen in his new father, Duke Reinhardt von Altheim. The air was thick with history, the weight of generations who had lived, fought, and died within these walls.

As Lukas reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard voices from the main hall. Following the sound, he found Duke Reinhardt deep in conversation with a man in full armor. The man was older, his face weathered by years of battle. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked towards Lukas as he entered.

Lukas hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to intrude, but his presence was quickly noticed. “Lukas!” Duke Reinhardt called out, his stern expression softening as he beckoned his son forward. “Come here, my boy.”

Lukas approached cautiously, his gaze lingering on the armored man. There was something about the way the man stood—rigid, alert, every movement controlled—that reminded Lukas of the retainers who had served him in his previous life. *A seasoned warrior,* he thought.

“This is Captain Aric, one of our most trusted men,” Reinhardt introduced, placing a hand on Lukas’s shoulder. “Aric, this is my son, Lukas.”

Captain Aric bowed, his expression respectful but guarded. “It’s an honor to meet you, young master Lukas.”

As Lukas nodded in return, he could sense the captain’s gaze studying him, evaluating him. The captain had heard the whispers among the servants—Lukas had been bedridden for months, teetering on the edge of death. Yet here he was, seemingly recovered, but… different. The illness had taken a toll on the boy, and Aric couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this sudden change. The boy’s eyes were too sharp, his demeanor too controlled for a child of his age.

Aric’s thoughts remained private as he continued to observe Lukas, his concern hidden behind a mask of formality. *The illness may have passed, but something about the young master has changed,* Aric thought. *I must keep an eye on him.*

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Reinhardt smiled, clearly pleased with the interaction. “Lukas, I was just discussing some matters of importance with Captain Aric, but I’m glad you’re here. There are things I’ve been meaning to share with you—about our family and our position.”

Lukas’s interest piqued. This was the information he needed. He took a seat beside his father, his posture attentive as Reinhardt began to speak.

A Minor Noble House

“Our family, the von Altheims, has a long and storied history,” Reinhardt began, his tone filled with pride and a touch of weariness. “We are a minor noble house, sworn to the crown, Our estate may not rival those of the high nobility in size or wealth, but we have always prided ourselves on our integrity and honor.”

Lukas listened carefully, each word adding another piece to the puzzle. The term *minor noble house* confirmed his suspicions. This family, while noble, was far from the power centers of the kingdom. They were on the periphery, both geographically and politically. Yet there was a dignity in the way his father spoke, a fierce pride in their heritage.

“Our lands are fertile,” Reinhardt continued, “and our people are hardworking. But our position on the border has always made us vulnerable. We’re not the wealthiest of families, nor do we command the largest military, our Land is mountainous yet flat thats how we have always stood firm against any threats that come our way.”

Captain Aric, who had remained silent, nodded in agreement. “The Duke is right, young master. Your father’s leadership has kept this house strong, even in the face of adversity. There have been times when more powerful families have tried to encroach on our territory, but the Duke has always managed to protect what is ours.”

Lukas’s eyes narrowed slightly as he absorbed this information. *Encroach on our territory?* He could sense there was more to this story—an undercurrent of tension that spoke of ongoing struggles. “Who are these other families?” he asked, his tone careful, masking the sharp curiosity that burned within him.

Reinhardt’s expression darkened, the lines on his face deepening with the weight of responsibility. “There are several noble houses that neighbor our lands—House Brandeis to the north, House Varley to the east, and House Castor to the west. Each of them has their own ambitions, and they often look at our lands with greed.”

Lukas noticed a flicker of something in Captain Aric’s eyes as his father mentioned House Brandeis—concern, perhaps even unease. The captain had seen the lengths to which House Brandeis would go to expand their influence. They were not a family to be underestimated, and their interest in von Altheim lands had become more overt in recent months.

“These families… they’ve tried to take what’s ours?” Lukas asked, pushing for more details.

Reinhardt nodded grimly. “They’ve made attempts, yes. Some subtle, others less so. We’ve managed to hold our own, but the pressure is always there. We’ve had to be vigilant, to protect what’s ours. But it hasn’t been easy.”

*So, this family is caught in a power struggle with its neighbors,* Lukas thought, his mind already working to piece together the dynamics at play. In his past life, he had been embroiled in countless power struggles, both within his cult and against external enemies. The tactics might be different here, but the underlying principles were the same—power, control, and survival.

“What about the crown?” Lukas asked, his mind racing. “Do they support us?”

Reinhardt’s expression softened slightly, though there was a hint of bitterness in his eyes. “The crown is aware of the situation, but their support is… limited. They have larger concerns, and as a minor house, we’re not always at the top of their list. We’ve had to rely on ourselves more often than not.”

This revelation only served to heighten Lukas’s concern. *A minor house, on the outskirts of power bordering Stronger neighbours, struggling to maintain its position…* It was a precarious situation, one that could easily turn disastrous if they weren’t careful.

His Father’s Mindset

As Lukas absorbed this information, he couldn’t help but study his father more closely. Duke Reinhardt was a man of strong principles—honor, loyalty, and duty were clearly at the core of his being. But beneath that, Lukas could see the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. The Duke was a man who had sacrificed much to keep his family and his people safe, but the strain was evident in the lines on his face and the weariness in his eyes.

“Father,” Lukas began, choosing his words carefully, “how do you plan to deal with these other families? It sounds like they won’t stop until they get what they want.”

Reinhardt sighed, rubbing his temple as if trying to ward off a headache. “It’s a delicate balance, Lukas. We can’t afford open conflict—not with our limited resources. But at the same time, we can’t show weakness, or they’ll pounce. We’ve had to make alliances where we can, play to our strengths, and outmaneuver them in subtle ways.”

Captain Aric nodded, his expression serious. “The Duke has kept us strong through his wisdom and strategic mind. He knows when to fight and when to negotiate.”

Lukas listened, understanding more about the man who was now his father. *A strategist,* he thought. Reinhardt might not have the overwhelming power Lukas once wielded, but he had a sharp mind and a deep understanding of the political landscape. He was playing a dangerous game, one where a single misstep could cost them everything.

Aric, meanwhile, couldn’t help but feel a growing unease. The Duke’s strategy had kept them safe so far, but House Brandeis was growing bolder and stronger.

As their conversation ended, a servant entered the hall, bowing deeply. “My lord, a messenger has arrived from House Brandeis. They request an audience with you.”

Reinhardt’s expression darkened. “Brandeis… They’ve been quiet for too long. This can’t be good.”

Lukas watched as his father stood, his demeanor shifting instantly from that of a concerned parent to a cautious leader. “Prepare the reception hall,” Reinhardt ordered. “I’ll meet with them immediately.”

“Yes, my lord,” the servant replied, hurrying off to carry out the command.

Reinhardt turned to Lukas, his expression serious. “I need to handle this, Lukas. Stay here and rest.