Late at night, Baron Duval's Castle was ablaze with light.
Inside the banquet hall, it was as warm as spring.
Sylvan Duval stood before the main seat, raising a silver goblet high.
The glow of the charcoal fire and candlelight flickered across his pale face, but it could not conceal the fervor in his eyes.
It had taken half a year of both open and secret struggles, but he had finally seized complete control of the domain. The price was steep: ceding thirty percent of the domain's tax revenue to the Church Court and promising to never rebuild the Northern Trade Route.
"Mother, everyone!" Sylvan's voice quivered with excitement. He made a point to first look at the Former Lady Baron, who sat to the right of the main seat in a loose-fitting dress. "When the sun rises tomorrow, I will formally inherit the title of Baron Duval! This will be a new beginning for our clan!"
