The County of Karolen was a beautiful place, a vast grassland that was ho to countless herds of healthy livestock upon which its humble inhabitants depended on for all sorts of sustenance. Wool from a Karolenian sheep was worth ten tis that of the next most reputable source, while milk from its cows and goats was sweeter and less likely to spoil than those from other regions. The secret to Karolen’s success within its respective markets was none other than the land itself, the most fertile amongst all of the other counties that made up the Providence Region of the Holy Lucian Empire.
Maels had toured much of his new territory over the past week and a half, enjoying the lax interlude between his long awaited transition from a senior priest to an accredited bishop of the church. He had recently been granted a wealthy state to oversee along with an imnse increase in influence within the Collegia of Clergyn and by extension throughout the empire as a whole. As soone who had always operated in the dense shadow of his deceased father, it was imnsely uplifting to have received such recognition for his own rits.
He had recently returned to the imperial capital of Lahn after successfully completing a high-difficulty task that had been assigned to him by none other than Archbishop Vestach himself, one of the few frontrunners to replace the aging Cardinal Varus when the ti eventually ca for His Eminence to ascend to the Higher Heavens. This accomplishnt had not only enhanced his own standing within the archbishop’s circle, but had also raised the prestige of the circle itself.
Not only had Maels succeeded in convincing the infamous religious-denouncing king of an enemy nation to embrace the Lucian Faith, but he had also built up ties between Archbishop Vestach’s faction and the royal family of the easternmost province of the Baldor Empire, the Kingdom of Cessia. Because of Maels, churches and cathedrals were now being constructed all across the largely-pagan kingdom, and hundreds of deacons and priests were in the midst of being assigned to various towns, cities and fortresses within its borders.
Thinking of his hard-earned successes, Maels shifted his thoughts to the man that he was set to et with on this bright sumr afternoon. "He should be here any ti now," he muttered, absentmindedly fiddling with his white robes after plucking one of his short auburn hairs from its neckline. "Hopefully it doesn’t take too long."
Maels was a tall man, enough so that most of the seats within his new residence were noticeably too small and confining to comfortably accommodate his lean figure. Readjusting his position where he sat at one such seat, he made a ntal note to have every room furnished with larger, more forgiving pieces of furniture.
His guest was already half an hour late, which he couldn’t help but take as a slight considering that they had only been acquainted for a short while. Normally the master of his temper, Maels was feeling quite fidgety as he awaited his company with rising anxiety. Although he wanted nothing more than to retire to his quarters to see to so private matters, there were many things that required his attention at the mont and so he had decided to postpone such activities in light of the unexpected ssage he’d received from the court magus of the count of Karolen.
Maels was sitting at a large work desk within one of the spare studies that his new residence seed to have so many of. When he’d first stepped foot within the Whitestone Palace he had been quite overwheld with satisfaction in knowing that such a beautiful, expansive building was to be his ho for the foreseeable future. Within the Providence Region, joint rulers assigned by the Collegia of Clergyn had lived at this ancestral estate for countless generations and it was from here that they had directly administered various aspects of the county’s governance. Constructed of dazzling white marble, the hexagonal building was an anomaly of ancient magics and artful engineering. While the palace looked as if it had recently been constructed, it actually predated the Inverted Wars by several centuries like many other structures within The Land of One Hundred Counties.
A knock ca at the heavy brass doors on the far side of the spacious room, which was lined with bookshelves on all walls and lit by magic crystals that had been embedded into the stone ceiling countless lifetis ago. If there was one thing that Whitestone Palace didn’t lack, it was books, for nearly every room contained at least one full bookshelf.
"The count is here to see you, Your Grace."
Hearing a servant’s voice from outside of the door, Maels called for his guest to enter.
"Your Grace. I’m glad to find you in good spirits."
He reclined from his reverie and stood up to greet the man that had just been admitted into the secondary study by two mbers of Maels’s personal guard. Rich brown eyes and soft blond hair, Count Brennan would have been handso if he paid more attention to his physique. Overweight to the point of obscenity, this middle-aged man was the person that Maels was destined to work with as a joint ruler of the county for the foreseeable future.
"You could tell?"
The man’s thumb trailed over one of the many rings that decorated his fat fingers. "Forgive for my candidness, but we’ve t several tis now and this is the first instance that I’ve seen a smile on your face." A silver circlet sat atop a head of short blond hair, accentuated by an unnecessarily expensive outfit that put heavy emphasis on golden trim and brocade.
"Is that so? I suppose I’m enjoying these leisurely days a bit too much. It’s been quite so ti since I’ve had more than a few monts to myself, you know." Maels drew an oval over his chest. How many years had he been forced to tiptoe around the ill-tempered king of Cessia and that scheming, manipulative queen of his? "Having so much ti on my hands is a very fortunate thing. Especially after my ti in Baldor."
He had been taken with Karolen from the very first mont that he had set foot in the county. Beautiful pastures and orderly, well-maintained cities aside, the people were very friendly and those from all backgrounds were equally zealous in their love for Lucian. After spending so much ti surrounded by close-minded and often hostile pagans, it was indescribably refreshing to be back in a place where the light of Lucian was especially bright and ever so pervasive. On top of that, this was the first ti in seven years that Maels had found himself without any active assignnts, and he had never been more relaxed in his life.
"Ti to one’s self is indeed precious." Joining his hands behind his back—or trying to—Count Brennan gained a slightly impatient look as if he were annoyed at the prospect of standing for any longer than his heavy legs would have liked. "I’m glad to hear that you’ve been enjoying yourself. To be honest, I’d been of the impression that you had felt quite inconvenienced at the sudden increase in responsibility."
Maels had made it a habit to mask his true emotions, for in the backstabbing world of the Collegia of Clergyn it was only ever a disadvantage to allow others to catch glimpses of one’s inner workings. Take the mission that Vestach had assigned him, for instance. The man had inherited leadership of their faction from Maels’s father, and had burdened him with a seemingly impossible task within a distant realm that was hostile to his own. Such situations had taught Maels the valuable lesson that it was best to wear a permanent mask of neutrality when dealing with the ruling classes, perceptive as many of them tended to be.
"It’s every clergyman’s dream to oversee a diocese, a position in which I now find myself. Relaxation is nice, yes, but work is still work, and having more to do is always a good thing when it’s in service to the Faith and to the good people that adhere to it."
Brennan glanced at the chair in front of him, his eyes lingering. "I’m still trying to wrap my head around how you convinced Victor the Godless to convert. I know that his province is a black sheep in Baldor, but the man’s executed hundreds of believers for trying to spread Lucian’s Word within his lands."
"Honestly," sighed Maels, who glanced down his straight, rigid nose at a pile of paperwork that he had been looking over while he’d awaited the count’s arrival, "I’m still having trouble believing it myself." He finally sat back down and indicated at the padded chair that resided on the other side of the large, mahogany desk. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
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