Sitting at the head of the table was Alex, now Arthur Bolton. Right beside him, on either side were his two siblings.
The one sitting on the right was a timid boy of 12 with short honey blonde hair and green eyes. His frame was thin, and he quivered every time someone would pass by him. He had a round face with thin lips, small nose, big ears and bushy eyebrows. He was wearing a cozy tunic suit in wool tweed, with a warm knitted jersey underneath, knickerbockers, thick wool stockings pulled up to the knees, and sturdy indoor shoes.
This was the youngest sibling, Oscar Bolton.
To his left was a girl of 14—his sister. Alex could feel his heart flutter a little. She looked so much like Sarah with the same honey-blonde hair as her brother and big, almond shaped green eyes. She was much taller than her younger brother and was wearing a soft, puffy morning dress that was black and green in color, long-sleeved, high-necked, ankle-length skirt, with a loose belted cinched at her tiny waist. Her long blonde hair that usually reached to her ankles were braided and placed on her shoulder.
This was the middle sibling, Ava Bolton.
Both Oscar and Ava were deathly silent. While Oscar looked mortified just being here, Ava was much more confident. However, Alex could still feel the underlying tension in their tiny shoulders.
Instead of breaking the ice immediately, Alex motioned towards the two without speaking, signaling them to start eating. The long family table with a gold-inlaid clothe draped over it had silver chafing dishes that kept everything steaming hot, while the scents of spices and roasting meat mingled with the crackle of the hearth right behind Alex, keeping his back warm.
There was an array of food on the table such as slow-cooked wolf stew, kedgeree with smoked haddock, grilled venison sausages, deviled kidneys & bacon rashers and multiple kinds of fresh breads.
Oscar picked a piece of bread and quickly lathered it in butter. Then, as if realizing something, suddenly looked at Alex. There were a real panic and fear in his eyes as he trembled.
"Don't worry, I am not as hungry. Keep eating." Alex spoke softly.
However, it was not enough to curb the little boy's anxiousness. After many minutes of awkward silence and movements, Oscar finally began to open up and started eating. The feeble boy looked malnourished, as if someone had been starving him.
At the same time, Alex heaved a silent sigh. 'Arthur really did abuse the little ones... It's not like his parents died because of these two. The original Arthur believed that the little ones brought in the diseases or plague from outside, which resulted in their deaths.
However, if that was the case, why are the little ones alive? Children are more prone to die to infections due to their weaker immune system.
However, it is a little stewing. How did two Mages die to a sudden illness in the matter of a few days? It doesn't make sense. While our mother, Myranda Bolton, was not a High Sequence Mage, she was still strong enough to resist plagues and diseases.
Hmmm...'
As Alex was lost in thought, he felt Ava's intense gaze on him. Abandoning the thought, he turned his full attention towards her. The girl was quite meek too; however, she did not flinch away when compared to Oscar.
"Do you have something to say, Ava?"
"Yes." She replied curtly before removing her knife that was embedded inside the square-shaped venison sausage.
"Go ahead."
Wiping the grease off her lips, she turned her body towards him. "Oscar has done nothing wrong. The mural... I... I broke it. I accidently broke it. Ser Hector suddenly appeared, and I panicked... and I could not react in time. I am the one you should punish."
Alex frowned at her; however, Ava kept her chin up and her eyes focused on her Duke brother.
Ser Hector was the Sword of Midnight, one of four sworn swords of Boltons. He had a habit of emerging from the shadows all of a sudden, according to the memories and recollections from the original body.
'What a poor girl... She was mother's favorite but ever since they died, Arthur has been constantly taking out his anger on them for every little thing instead of focusing on the lands that he was left with... What a pathetic excuse for a brother! Not brother, what a pathetic excuse of a human being!'
"It's ok." Alex waved his hand, causing a look of confusion to appear on Ava's face. Oscar didn't dare look up and kept his head down and mouth stuffed, however, he too kept one ear to the conversation.
Before she could say anything else, Alex continued. "It's a shame that you broke it, since I really liked it, but that is not enough grounds for me to punish you. That said, this should be the last time. Next time there will be hell to pay, understand?"
Each of the word said was soft and tender, not in a way that would scare them. And while Oscar took it to heart, Ava still had that confused look on her face, and her mouth was slightly ajar. Realizing her state, she quickly closed it and focused back on the square sausage.
She would steal a glance or two every now and then. Meanwhile Alex had completely averted his attention away from the two. He realized that the more he tried to get close to them, the more cautious they got. Hence, he decided to leave them alone for now and let them eat in peace.
He could slowly gain their trust back by changing himself bit-by-bit. After all, Alex was the polar opposite of their cruel brother. Once the food was done, Ser Godfrey walked inside and bowed. Alex wasn't really hungry, and the taste of the food was so tasteless that it curbed his appetite even more.
The siblings were escorted after that. Once they were gone, Ser Godfrey came closer and leaned beside Alex. "My lord, Minister Voss seems to have some guests over. We are still trying to identify them, but Hector has confirmed himself, they're Mages, and specifically powerful ones. A rough estimate by Hector says that they are all at least Sequence 6."
Alex placed his chin over his knuckles as he frowned. 'Sequence 6? I don't know how powerful that is. All I can tell from Arthur's memories is that there 9 Sequences to certain Classes or Pathways, with the weakest being Sequence 9 and strongest being Sequence 1.'
Alex didn't hide his confusion and coughed a little. "I see. Gather the other Knights. We will find out about his friends in the evening. In the meantime..." Before Alex could finish his sentence, Godfrey nodded.
"The books are by the bedside table, my lord. You can read them at your convenience."
Alex didn't smile at the man, only offering him a silent nod. He realized that Arthur didn't use to smile a lot and was always in a sour mood. He was quite intelligent, evident from the memories of his early life where everyone doted on him, but at the same time, he was very pessimistic.
Seeing Ironhold's constantly debilitating condition, and Frostspire & Ravenmoore's development, Arthur adopted a "What's even the point?" attitude, instead of improving the situation. Bit-by-bit, every 2 years when the King would hold his tourney, seeing his family's house guards being defeated, he developed a sour relationship with everyone and most of all, himself.
Ironhold was poor. Boltons were poor, compared to the other 2 Dukes, and due to the low number of transactions, any kind of purchase of the ingredients to craft the Potion, required to become a Mage would've been really scrutinized by the High King Holt.
Hence, he gave up on becoming a Mage and began living his life indulging in all sorts of things while hating the Bolton name...and his own parents. Even the sharpest blade could grow dull if is not polished for a long time, and that was what happened to Arthur Bolton as he fell into a downward spiral of debauchery starting from his 15th name day.
As he was lost in thought, Alex suddenly recalled something from Arthur's memories. The memory sent a jitter down his spine, and he felt so disgusted that it made him want to rip his skin away.
Clearing his throat and not directly looking at the golden eyed, white whiskered man, Alex's lips parted. "Alice, that girl from 2 nights ago... Is she ok?"
Godfrey's face hardened. If Alex didn't know that the knights were loyal to the bone to Boltons, he would've thought that the old man was going to slap his teeth out. That was how ferocious he looked in that moment.
"She is recovering, my lord." He spoke normally, but Alex could feel the bloodlust, creeping like fog on his spine.
"I see... Send 10 Krones to her parents and have Maester Oswin of Highmere tend to her instead. Until she is fully recovered, have her parents stay in the Castle and provide them with necessary food and clothing. Once she has made full recovery, inform me."
Godfrey looked like a little stunned. "Forgive my bluntness, my lord, but you have been acting strange since this morning. It's unlike you to care for women you...invited to bed." Alex's sharp and pale green turned to meet Godfrey's as he straightened his back.
"You are forgiven this time, Ser Godfrey, but do not mistake my drunk acts as my entire personality. Or do you think your young Duke is nothing but a drunk rapist?"
Godfrey lowered his head. "Of course not. The family sent their daughter themselves."
Alex felt sick. "Regardless, make preparations. Have the money ready... who is handling our coins?"
"It's the Steward of Treasury, my lord."
Alex let out an exasperated sigh. "I know the titles, Ser. I am asking for his name."
"Steward Alaric Morrow, my lord."
"Right. Get him to take out 10 Krones and hand it over to the family. Assure them that no harm will come upon them."
As Alex stood up, his silky robe fluttered behind him. It was a morning robe, but even that was so luxurious that many ordinary people could not even dream of seeing something like it. It was befitting for the Head of what was known as One of the Three Archduke Families.
"Anything else, my lord?"
Arthur tried to rack his brain about the other knights, however, there was not much he could remember. From Arthur's memories, he could tell that Godfrey was the only one who followed Arthur around, all the time. And since he was the leader of the Knights, everyone followed his decisions.
Why Godfrey followed him around and tolerated his heinous acts so much was still a mystery.
Alex could only recall Hector being a stealthy man.
"Tell Ser Hector to keep watch inside the city."
"Not the castle?" Godfrey raised a brow.
"Yes, the city. Specifically, the region where Minister Voss' "friends" are staying. Keep a look out for the outer walls of Grey Harbor and increase the requirements required to enter it. Check the ships, wagons, even the head-bags of the women and children coming from the seashore and the fields." Alex quickly recollected all vantage points from where weapons could've been smuggled in, in case of a coup.
Godfrey, who was a seasoned knight, was already aware of this, but to hear his Lord talk about it so confidently made him a little suspicious, but at the same time a little hopeful. He could feel like the name of the Boltons was not completely in the dirt. There was still hope.
While hope was there, it was still meek. Lord Arthur's moods and personalities often changed, depending on the nature of substance in his bloodstream. But no matter how meek, hope was hope, and it was enough to make the old man's face light up.
He slightly tapped his fist on his chest three times. "As you command, my lord. May the long night shine darker than ever." He spoke in a soft, reverent manner before taking his leave.
As Alex walked to his room, he felt a chill up his spine. 'May the long night shine darker than ever? What kind of strange and ominous family signature line is that?'