353: I belong to House de Lanark - part 1 (Noctavian's POV)

I belong to House de Lanark - part 1 (Noctavian's POV)

The Archduchess's estate was the cradle of an impressive collection of artworks. Some depicted the epic tale of how the King of Emoria had defeated the tyranny of the previous Empire which had persecuted and enslaved the Emorian race. Others showcased Kaiser's benevolence, highlighting how he had allowed the descendants of the last Emperor of the fallen Empire to continue their lives.1

Many paintings celebrated the rise of Lanark, featuring women in various occupations, often depicted alongside the Archduchess herself and her son, the Crown Prince of Emoria. But among these, there was one painting that held a unique place in Noctavian's heart, one he had spent half his life contemplating.

The artwork was by Emoria's most renowned artist, an eccentric man called Zephir. It was titled 'An Emorian Feast' and portrayed King Kaiser de Lanark waltzing with his daughter, the Archduchess of Lanark. In the background stood a man with his back turned to the viewer of the art, his face obscured, leaving his facial features to Noctavian's imagination.

Every time the Crown Prince inquired about his father, his mother would lovingly take his hand and guide him to that very artwork. There, she would regale him with tales of Egon von Conradie: a gentleman who had settled the debts of Lanark, a formidable warrior who once saved the King's life during an annual hunt plagued by possessed animals, a shrewd businessman who turned inherited fortunes into even greater wealth. He was a descendant of Emperors, carrying the ancient vampire blood, the most powerful man among mortals, a person with a heart of gold and a hand of steel.

But where is this legendary man, Mother?

That question brought about Noctavian's favorite bedtime stories. Egon von Conradie was on a noble quest, traveling to distant lands, his journey now took him to the mountains of Kolhis where he needed to stay a bit longer with the promise of returning soon.

That day of his return never came.

Those bedtime stories eventually became a source of great pain for his mother, and to spare her from this grief, Noctavian would pretend to be asleep before she finished. Afterward, he would quietly sit up for the longest time, secretly listening to her sobbing in the next room with his sensitive ears.

Why does Mother cry alone?

His questions about his father and the stories of his mother lasted until that one fateful day three years ago. It was unlike any other day, the sole occasion when the Crown Prince had witnessed the Archduchess and the King locked in a heated argument about legislation—a matter of little consequence to Noctavian. This particular law had been enacted by Kaiser de Lanark himself, establishing a legal period of separation for married couples. If this period expired, the marriage was automatically annulled.

He had caught a fleeting glimpse of his mother, her pretty green eyes puffy and swollen from crying, as she exited her study where she had engaged in that heated discussion with the King regarding this law. Frustrated and emotional, she had stormed out of the annex, hopped into her carriage, and departed from her estate.

Noctavian would never forget what his grandfather had told him when he emerged from the study and found his grandchild standing there, utterly bewildered.

"We become Kings to protect, and sometimes, protection requires us to inflict necessary pain."

Following these words, the King delegated his first task to his Crown Prince: "Gather your knights, utilize the portals to swiftly reach the mountains of Kolhis. You must arrive before she does, and your mission is to ensure her safety there."

Why had the Archduchess chosen to go to the Empire after her argument with the King? When he posed this question, his grandfather shared more words of wisdom that would remain etched in the Crown Prince's memory.

"Noctavian, listen with an open heart to everyone who wishes to speak to you, but place your faith only in what your own eyes witness."

What does His Majesty want me to see?

Noctavian did follow his mother on that journey, observing her from a concealed vantage point amidst the ranks of the Kolhisan army that was sent out to protect her at Claude de Lanark's request. However, to Noctavian's dismay, his mother, who had ordered everyone else away, found herself wandering alone in the mountains that night.

He watched her closely as she clutched her dagger, flinching at every sound but pressing on with troubled nerves. She only calmed down once she began humming a melancholic tune, one that he later traced back to Kolhisan folklore—a song about searching for a woman's lost love in the mountains.

Could his mother's torment be all about Egon von Conradie?

By the third night, as the same pattern repeated itself, Noctavian pieced together the puzzle. His grandfather had coerced his mother into an annulment for a marriage she had upheld single-handedly. Instead of accepting this, she embarked on a mission to make contact with her husband, extending the period of separation and affording him more time to complete his mission and return to them.

What had that mission entailed, anyway? And why hadn't that man in the mountains ever inquired about his wife and his son? Noctavian finally decided to take matters into his own hands.

While the boy lacked advanced tracking skills at the time, he made up for it with his powers of persuasion and an endless supply of gold coins. By the fourth night, he had not only located a man living in the mountains outside the villages but had also bribed a villager to pass this information along to the Archduchess. Then, he discreetly followed his mother to the remote location. A place the villagers called: the Beast den.

It was pure coincidence, but when Noctavian's mother finally reached the campsite of that frightening man, he lay sprawled on the ground, writhing in fever-induced hallucinations. His fever was so high that he didn't even appear surprised by her sudden presence. As if she was someone who visited him every night.

Just as in the painting, all Noctavian could see, in order not to blow his cover in front of his mother, was the man's back. But this time, he wasn't focused on the man; his sole concern was the anguish across his mother's face.

She kept touching her stomach as if something were amiss there, and her other hand remained pressed to her mouth as though she were on the verge of screaming.

Long after she had finally calmed down and sat by the fire the man had made, she appeared to wrestle with a difficult decision from a distance—one that became crystal clear as her fingers continuously pricked her white gloves.

To heal him or not to heal him.

Her hand never released the glove she clutched until she turned and fled back the way she had come.

Noctavian briefly contemplated removing his wristband and attempting to use his healing magic to help. However, an inner voice urged him not to interfere—a voice that reminded him always to trust his mother's judgment. For that very reason, he turned away without comparing Egon's features to the mental image he had drawn and continued to follow his mother back to her carriage.

Returning to the Kingdom ahead of his mother, the boy wasted no time in informing his grandfather about all that he had witnessed. That's when he finally learned the reason behind the war that the allies, led by Emoria, had waged against the land of the warlocks years ago, and why the public believed their Crown Prince was one year younger than his actual age.

"Your mother aimed to erase any doubts in the minds of the people regarding your father's identity," Kaiser explained solemnly. "She wished them to believe that it was her husband, not her kidnapper, who fathered you. Unfortunately, there are those with malicious intentions who might cast doubt on her words. It's far more credible for them to believe she was meeting her husband during her visits to Kolhis if you were born a year later, even if he did not make his presence known in Emoria."

This revelation turned Noctavian's world upside down. His mother, often referred to as a saintess behind her knights' backs, had shielded him from the judgments and speculations of his subjects even before he was born into this world.

What a vile trial to endure all alone.

Adelaide de Lanark von Conradie became known as Adelaide de Lanark after her return from the mountains. And the boy who had been tasked with protecting his mother grew into a man who made a decision that would shape his entire life.

His parentage held no significance, for he shall always belong to House de Lanark.

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