Lord Prestonheim pressed the bridge of his nose, a sign of another distressing day ahead. It was a habit he caught during his time with the Crimson Order. As one of the leading Commanders of the order, he was tasked to do crucial undertakings that others won't even dream of having.

As the missions became closer to impossible, his tenacity and ingenuity on his approach gave them the leverage. Out of all the knights of the order, he was the only one to receive the Infallible distinction being the only knight to have never failed a mission. It was the first in the order and was never topped since.

Along the title also came a lot of headaches. Being such an admirable Commander came with a lot of responsibilities. Maintaining the armies disciplined, checking on their armors, working with other military strategists on contingencies and war tactics gave a toll on his body.

One day while visiting his betrothed, he began having pounding headaches during their garden lunch. The pain was so severe that he fell to the ground unconscious. Later that day, he woke up on one of the guest rooms of his betrothed's estate with her by his side.

He felt embarrassed with the entire situation and apologized to her. She only smiled and giggled. He remembered her telling him not to apologize for showing his weakness. She held his hand and told him that it was a normal thing, that men are also vulnerable.

"It's okay to show this side of you. If you're that embarrass, just show it to me! I won't judge!" She smiled. "Oooh! By the way, I learned this keen way of reducing headaches! I learned it from our family physician! He told me to press the bridge of my nose when you get too stressed. He said it lessens your chances for headaches!"

He started doing it that day and it stuck ever since. Lord Prestonheim can't help but smile as he recalled those wonderful memories he had with his departed wife. It always made his day a little bit better in such gloom times.

After another moment of staring blankly at the barren landscape of the Bieroff's garden from the window, Lord Prestonheim decided to get dressed and meet up with the Lady host. He would've wanted to pick the clothes himself but being a prisoner gave him so limited choices and freedom. He was lucky enough to land a room inside the Arenfall castle, although he couldn't say the same for Adaloun.

He was not allowed to bring anything, but Lady Adrena was kind enough to fetch some of his clothing from the camp yesterday.

Lord Prestonheim saw how Adaloun's limp body was dragged and carried into a wagon. The poor man fell unconscious after fighting the remnants of the fiendish horde from the abyss. Now, the Commander couldn't help but hope that the Bieroff could show some leniency on the former slave.

After wearing the ill-advised fashion doublet his brother gave him, he thought of tearing it apart, but time was of the essence. As a knight, you do not make a lady wait, regardless of their social standing. That was one of the tenets the old knight followed.

He immediately looked for the pair of pants that was embroidered exactly like his flamboyant upper garment. He went for his shiny leather boots and his leather belt with the Prestonheim's sigil engraved on the buckle.

He went out of the room after combing his silver hair slickly to the back. Lord Prestonheim was met with a young handmaiden waiting for him outside his door. She curtsied at him and asked him to follow her and met with Lady Adrena.

They walked along the barren hallways of the Arenfall castle. The wide hallways that were used to be a thing of legend when the Arens lived in the castle, was now a desolate place rid off any color or décor. There were no fresco paintings that usually filled the walls of the villas the Commander had owned and used to visit.

The walls were grey and cracked, it was a contrast from when the previous lord of the castle was alive. Although, the decorations and statues were based on him, it was painted vibrantly making it a good contrast to the cracking walls of the castle. There were also golden banners hung in the ceilings and posts with the sigil of the Bieroffs etched on to it. But this time, everything was barren. No golden light stands, no gigantic vases, not even a clue of greenery.

"Young lady," Lord Prestonheim couldn't hold his curiosity. "Why are the castle walls filled with gray? Is the Lady still mourning?"

The handmaiden halted and turned to him slowly, "My Lady wishes no part of such worldly ornaments. She only wishes to serve the god she believes and thus decorated the shrine with him, the most holy." She turned around and simply walked again.

The Commander could see the dullness in her eyes. There was no hint of emotion, nor that of life. She was living and yet she felt dead inside. All the answers she gave had a sweet pleasing voice but never had a jovial tone to it.

Something was terribly off but it could be just him. It could be the Dhampiirs attacks might have hindered his senses or abilities to feel emotion, after all those monsters drained it along with hisblood. It should be that.

They went down the grand staircase into the wide and barren hallway of Arenfall's once illustrious ballroom. The floors were cracked and chipped. The fine gilded carpets that once covered the ugly floors had now been stripped, showing the ugly facade the previous lords of the castle had kept away from the naked eye.

They passed along the dark Stone Hall, its door cracked open. It was supposed to be the previous lord's bragging room. Formerly, the room was filled with light and intricately ornated statues of himself and the previous family heads. The room had the notoriety of being the biggest hall in all of the Principalia, but Lord Prestonheim highly doubted the claim. Still, he couldn't deny the beauty and grandeur of the Stone Hall but now, even the light can't pass through it.

The room reminded him of the dark fog he faced a few nights ago. It looked as if at any moment, a Dhampiir might come out from the darkness and finish the job his kin failed to do. He stared at it for a moment more just to be certain. His experience with those monsters made him wary the dark more than he used to.

"My Lord," The petite handmaiden stopped again. "My Lady wishes you to be on the table with her right now."

It was a way of saying to him that he was stalling the entire time and he needed to hurry. The Commander sighed and apologized to the handmaiden before looking away from the dark hall.

They passed a few empty hallways and some dilapidated doors until they reached the garden where Lady Adrena waited. The lady of the house prepared an elegant table for them. She set it up near the garden's arch surrounded by sparsely growing plants and entangled with wild thorns.

The table was covered with a linen cloth inlaid with gold etchings of the Bieroff and Lucresia household. There was a platter of fruits on the table, half a wheel of bovine cheese, sliced cured pork, assorted meat jerkies and warm pieces of bread.

"My Lady," the young handmaiden curtsied. "Lord Prestonheim of House Prestonheim has arrived."

Lady Bieroff nodded at her and smiled, "Come here, little one."

The Commander noticed how the handmaiden jittered at Lady Bieroff's command. She stiffly walked towards the Lady of the house and bowed. Lady Bieroff moved closer to her ear and whispered something to her. 

The handmaiden's knees trembled for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and ran back towards him.

"T-the…L-lady invites you…to the…t-table." The girl stammered before bowing to him and running away from the garden.

Lord Prestonheim looked at Lady Bieroff confused. The lady simply brushed off the look on his face and gestured him to take a seat across to her in the table. Hesitant but at the same time intrigued, the Commander walked over to the opposite end of the table and sat.

He looked at the food on the table once more. Lady Bieroff stood up and offered a small bowl of salt. She broke the bread and gave the other half to Lord Bieroff. The Commander and the Lady dipped the bread into the bowl of salt before consuming it.

"August," Lady Adrena laid her hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to put your guard up high. Take this a breakfast among friends."

Lord Prestonheim looked at her and nodded. Lady Adrena was kind enough to welcome him as a guest by the greeting salt. The greeting of the salt was a practice done by the first Arterians to welcome a guest to their home, promising them protection and hospitality.

"Very well, Lady Adrena," He smiled. "May the gods put more bounty on your table that hosted me."

Lady Adrena's smile suddenly turned sour, "Please call me Adrena. You can drop the honorifics August, along with the gods that I do not have faith on."

Lord Prestonheim got flustered with her response. Lady Adrena made her way back to the other end of the table before he could respond. They ate in awkward silence, Lady Adrena didn't respond to any of the Commander's compliment with the food. She never batted an eye on him the entire time. She ate silently, enjoying the cheese and wine on the table.

After they were done, Lord Prestonheim stood up and tried to excuse himself. Suddenly Lady Adrena slapped the table.

"I didn't tell you we're done, August!" She yelled at him. "I am the host! I order you to sit back down!"

Lord Prestonheim was surprised by her sudden change of mood. He slowly went back to his seat while trying to calm himself down from shouting back. He looked at her straight in the eyes. She stared back at him, a typical trait of the Lucresias. She won't back down.

"My Lady, what is with this sudden rage?" He calmly asked.

Lady Adrena's mood changed again. She sighed and smiled from the chair. "I was just trying to get your attention, August. Looks like I was successful with that."

The Commander sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. There was another awkward silence after that short interaction, then Lady Adrena stood up.

"August, I just want to tell you that you are currently sentenced to death under the Principalia's Codes." The Lady declared.

Lord Prestonheim raised his eyebrow, "On what grounds are you indicting me, Adrena?" He challenged Lady Adrena.

Lady Adrena stood up and went to his side of the table, "Order 357. Destruction of the Principalia's properties."

The Commander couldn't contain his outrage. He pounded the table and stood up, meeting Lady Adrena's eyes. "How dare you? You know that's not—"

"You cannot get out of this one! I sent a letter to my dear brother detailing the horrific things you did with the mines." She held his hand. "Unless, I say something about it. You know, whisper to his ear, it was because of those wretched slaves. All for the price of a deal. Let the Bieroffs claim over the discovery of those stones!"

The sly Adrena knew exactly what she wanted and now that she had the edge over the rest of the Principalia, she wanted to claim it. Lord Prestonheim understood, the discovery was under her land and thus she had a valid claim. However, the Commander fears that she might use the Aetherium as financial leverage that may prove to devastate the growing Empire.

With his life on the line, he knew he only had a few options.

"What say you, August?" Lady Adrena smirked, as she claimed victory over him.

Lord Prestonheim took a deep breath and smiled back at her, "No."

There was silence once again.