20th Ymiden, 711
16th Bell
16th Bell
“We’re almost there, my Lord.”
The servant had said that almost a break ago, time which Peake was apparently counting as there was nothing else for him to do. Watching through his carriage’s window got boring quite fast, especially when what waited outside was the ugly Burhan landscapes. Traveling on his own carriage, which was stripped from every droplet of alcohol that may have waited in the small cabinet beneath Peake’s seat. His father, a strict man that disliked a shameful son, had thought about everything. If Peake was feeling melodramatic, he would notice that even the curtains of the carriage were missing, his father having ordered them removed as if his son was to hang himself rather than accept his fate. Alas, the Lord had not realized he could’ve hidden the sight of the Burhan countryside if only the curtains were in their place.
In truth, Peake’s mind was divided in thought on this hot Ymiden afternoon. Most of his thoughts revolved around his upcoming promotion to Captain within the Moseke Knights. The rumour was out, and whenever the Andaris heir recalled the scared eyes of his work associates, a devilish smirk manifested on his lips. They all knew how he had gotten the promotion, with whom he moved down the street, the name of his superior… It had been an interesting couple of arcs for Peake, he recalled. Ever since his superior laid eyes on him, they saw the opportunity to help each other. An Andaris to help a Captain get away with his vices, and a man that helped a lost nobleman find his way into a life. Together, with name and skill combined, they slowly made their stamp onto the Kingdom: a stamp forged with extortion, assault, rape and even some murder. Peake was alienated from most of those crimes, of course. His mentor had changed Peake’s life, given him a confidence he never had before, while at the same time offering him a bright future. Peake was happy with the direction of his life.
He wasn’t happy, however, about the endeavor he was to endure on this day. His father Benji, a stubborn and logical man, kept spinning his web in Peake’s absence, and finally the web had captured another victim: another bride-to-be. Some Burhan girl had gotten the ‘honor’ to marry the infamous heir of Andaris, a twenty-three year old Peake that remains unmarried for all these years thanks to the strength of his will. Peake knew he didn’t want a marriage, and so he knew he wouldn’t have one. In these matters, the heir was a terrorist. Few families offered their daughters to this monster of a man, whose head was apparently too thick to recognize that he, as a son and heir, had no right to decide whom to marry. Thankfully, Peake was too old to fall victim to his father’s beatings, which in a way made it easier to get his own way. If only his deeds were witnessed by poets or novelists he knew a franchise would be born. Alas, his mischievous adventures were to remain as a memory only available for himself.
Not a few bits later and the carriage came to a halt. Was this it? Peake glanced through the window, and immediately sighed as he spotted the sight of the Burhan village rising in the horizon. Not too far nor near, it was at the ideal distance for Peake to ride into town. A sigh escaped him, before Peake himself escaped the limits of the carriage. Outside, the heat was far more powerful, especially under the intense sunlight that seemed about to boil Peake’s flesh right off. The nearby servants hurried to retrieve the umbrellas, which they struggled to rise at Peake’s height, whom needed to be protected by the sunlight. The caravan had halted for the moment, as preparations needed to be made before the convoy entered the village. Men and women needed to dressed up, guards needed to clean their armors and their spears needed to have the black banners attached. The ugly servants needed to hide, and the slaves had to be healed enough to avoid a disgusting sight with the gashes in their flesh. Sighing once again, Peake moved down the line of animal-drawn vehicles to find the carriage of his parents, which surely wanted to warn him about the importance of this day.
It would take a while.
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17th Break
Finally, the Andaris caravan approached the Burhan Village with its slow pace, an almost funerary sluggishness that made Peake roll his eyes many, many times. Being the main doll in this charnival, the nobleman was dressed in a ceremonial armor as black as coal itself, salve for the silver colours that adorned and contrasted with it, giving him a rather imposing if not scary appearance. House Andaris was like that, thought Peake, as their fame, wealth, and influence was something minor houses like House Burhan wouldn’t be able to easily dismiss. To get the honor to house these guests, and even have the opportunity to have someone as low as a Burhan opt to marry the Heir to the Andaris Duchy was no small deal. Everyone in the Andaris caravan expected the Burhan to have prepared something grandiose to receive them, otherwise they could easily turn around and go back the way they came.
Peake would be thankful if that happened, of course. Peake, riding his black stallion between two guards that traveled on foot carrying the Jacadon banners of House Andaris, felt like the center of attention. The fluttering of his black silk cloak behind him reassured him of that, yet that was no excuse. He did not want to marry, no matter to whom or how many riches would he be given. Thus, as stubborn as he was, the center of attention knew he had to sabotage this as soon as possible. Peake’s clean-shaved face and perfect haircut were unnoticed, as instead his face –or his expression, to be precise- were the main point of focus. The riding man entered the town with an expression proper of a very, very slow man that wasn’t just hit on the head as a child, but instead it was bashed several times to accomplish the dead eyes, the open mouth, and the longest line of drool ever recorded in the history of Rynmere. To call Peake simple with that expression on his face would be a grave offense to simple men and women. Peake’s act transported him so deep into the character that suffered from a severe retardation that he felt he needed a round of applause for this masterful act.
He did not want to marry. Even if he had to ridicule himself, he would never agree to an arranged marriage. Thus, it was better to pretend to be retarded.
Thanks to Lazuli for this amazing template!
