Julien, accompanied by the lifeless figure of the count, stepped into the grand hall once again. However, unlike the usual flurry of activity, the hall was dark and silent, devoid of any living soul. Curiously, this was Julien's first time alone in this space, and he found himself, surprisingly, savoring the solitude. Having frequented this impressive chamber almost daily since his days as a young page, he had never truly appreciated its vastness and charming architecture - maybe too outstanding for a count - usually obscured by the constant hustle and bustle of courtiers.
His stay, however, was going to be brief; Julien was merely traversing the expansive hall en route to Countess Hedwig’s chambers. Of all the individuals, he believed Hedwig, who has been surprisingly quiet about this whole affair, most deserving of a farewell.
One could have heard a feather land upon the stone floor, were it not for the sound of four footsteps and the solitary rhythm of a single person's heart and lungs, echoing through the chamber. At first, this tranquility carried a certain fascination, a serene break from the constant din of court life. Yet, as moments passed, the quietude began to transform, morphing into an unsettling silence that seemed to hang heavily in the air.
This eerie stillness was slowly interrupted by a new sound – a set of firm, deliberate steps approaching from the distance. Each footfall resonated against the stone, growing steadily louder and more distinct, slicing through the quiet and signaling the arrival of another presence in the deserted hall.
"Who goes there?" Julien called out assertively, directing his voice towards the source of the noise. From the depths of an adjoining corridor, a figure gradually emerged from the shadows: It was Hugh Durand, the son of the former castellan. He moved towards Julien with a measured pace, his expression marked by an apparent sternness.
Upon reaching closer, Hugh addressed them with the usual formality: "Count Robert," he said, offering a small, but still somewhat respectable bow, that seemed more obligatory than sincere. Then, lifting his gaze to Julien, he uttered, "Julien," in a strikingly more sardonic tone.
"The count will not be holding court any longer today, Hugh," the castellan interjected, pausing briefly to address the other man. "But your diligence is appreciated. You may take your leave now and enjoy the remainder of your day. I am escorting the count back to his chambers," he added, resuming his walk, "as usual."
"That is, in fact, a brilliant idea, Julien," Hugh responded, his voice taking on an almost cheerful tone as he fell into step beside them. "Yes, escort the count to his chambers, and then join me and the others in the council room." His eyes flickered with a hint of concern, or perhaps even apprehension.
"The councilmen have growing concerns about a matter we need to discuss with you. I'm sure you've noticed something amiss in the court lately, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have, Hugh," Julien replied, maintaining his usual stoicism, "but don't you worry, I'll be there."
With those words, the brief exchange came to an end. The men then parted ways, each moving silently through the dimly lit hall, enveloped in their own thoughts.
Shortly thereafter, Julien and the dead count arrived at the entrance of the countess' chambers. Gently pushing open the door, they stepped into the room where Lady Hedwig laid peacefully resting in her bed. The soft creak of the door disturbed the quietude, causing Lady Hedwig to slowly open her pale blue eyes, which soon focused on Julien.
"Is it time to feed him again?" she asked, her voice tinged with sleepiness as she began to sit up.
"No, it is not, Lady Hedwig," Julien responded, his voice carrying a faint smile. "In fact, you may not need to feed him anymore."
The countess's face melded sleepiness with confusion. "What do you mean?" she inquired, her brows knitting together in bewilderment.
"We are leaving, my lady," Julien explained, drawing closer to her bed and taking a seat at its edge. "It seems we are departing with no intention of returning, but first I must extend my gratitude to you for maintaining the secrecy of this... this."
"I strived to be a good countess, Julien," Hedwig responded, her gaze locking with his, a warm smile gracing her features. "And I know you strived to be a good castellan." As she spoke, a sense of life seemed to rekindle in her demeanor, as if a heavy burden was being lifted from her shoulders.
"And may I know where are you two going?" she asked, curiosity lighting up her eyes.
"Going to meet my fate, I believe" Julien said with a snicker. "Perhaps finally unravel the mystery of how I've managed to keep the count... alive." He paused, his tone becoming more serious, but still with a faint smile on his face. "I don't mean to be discourteous, my lady, but I believe the less you know, the safer you'll be." Rising from his seat, he prepared to leave.
Hedwig returned his smile, though hers was tinged with a little hint of apprehension. "And what am I to do now? What is a countess without her count, after all?" Her question, laden with uncertainty, reflected the profound shift in her situation.
"Honestly, I do not know," the castellan admitted with frankness, "with no member of the House of Omois to succeed count Robert, the land will find itself leaderless. It's possible the king might assume direct control, or perhaps a neighboring duke will annex the title. Your father might even stake a claim, given your presence here." As Julien and the count moved towards the door, his tone softened, offering a glimmer of reassurance, "but I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. You come from a noble line, and your kindness and loyalty are not only well-known but admired all around Omois. Perhaps it would be wise to return to your family lands when the opportunity arises, however, just to be sure."
With that, Julien opened the door, stepping aside to allow the count's corpse to pass. Turning back to Hedwig one last time, his expression was one of solemn gratitude. "Farewell, Countess Hedwig, and my deepest gratitude for your discretion.”
"Take care," she responded softly, a shy yet genuine smile gracing her features. It was a delicate expression, one that conveyed a mix of gratitude, sadness, and resilience.
As Julien walked away, Julien reflected on his fortune in having found such a devoted and courageous woman in Hedwig: The lengths she was willing to go for Omois… willing to navigate through the treacherous waters of court intrigue and my own mess for the sake of their land. Despite the heavy burdens and secrets they shared, her strength and loyalty never wavered. Julien would miss her.
Had it not been for Hugh's summons to meet with the council, Julien would have been on his way to his own chambers gathering provisions for the travel ahead of them. Duty always took precedence, however, and that would not change even amidst the turmoil of their impending departure. He quickened his pace towards the council room.
Upon reaching the door, Julien opened it unceremoniously, allowing the count to enter first. To his surprise, the room, expected to be bustling with the presence of council members, was occupied solely by Hugh. The absence of the usual assembly of advisors and nobles was striking, and Julien's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the unexpected scene.
"My lord," Hugh greeted, rising from his chair with the same bow from before directed towards the count. His demeanor shifted as he turned to Julien, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Julien!" He exclaimed, "it seems we are the first ones to arrive."
"So it seems," Julien responded, taking his usual seat in the council room. With a subtle glance, he directed the count to sit beside him, a silent command that was obeyed without question. Settling into his chair, Julien turned his attention back to Hugh, his expression one of guarded curiosity.
"What is it we need to discuss, Hugh?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of wariness.
"Well," Hugh began, pacing around the table with a contemplative air, "I have been increasingly concerned about the state of our beloved Omois." His steps brought him closer to Julien's seat. "Don't misunderstand me, I believe we've been doing all we can to manage affairs, but..."
His sentence was cut short by a faint knock on the door. Almost immediately, Philippe, a minor courtier, entered the room: "Lord Robert!" he announced with customary politeness. "The stablemaster requests your presence. It seems your favorite horse is behaving rather oddly..."
Philippe's interruption, while seemingly mundane, came at a moment fraught with tension. Julien, keenly aware of the delicate situation, cast a brief, assessing glance at Hugh before turning his attention to Philippe. The mention of the horse, especially under such odd circumstances, seemed almost too coincidental. Was it a coded message? Or a prearranged signal?
"Well, then," Julien said, rising to his feet alongside the count, ready to address the unexpected request, "sorry, Hugh, but it seems there are other matters requiring our attention. Will you still be here when we return?"
At this moment, Hugh's expression shifted into a sly smile, a hint of cunning playing at the corners of his mouth. "I believe Count Robert is quite capable of making his way to the stables on his own, don't you think? Besides, the matter we need to discuss is of the utmost urgency, Julien, we cannot postpone it any longer."
Julien, visibly taken aback for the second time in less than half a day, sensed a deeper knowledge in Hugh's words: "I don’t believe our count would appreciate being excluded from discussions of such importance," he replied, regaining his composure.
Hugh's response was swift and direct, his gaze locking onto Julien's with an almost defiant intensity: "We will certainly inform him of our exchanges upon his return," he said, "unless... There is a reason his absence for an extended period would be more problematic than it seems. Is there something you need to tell me, Julien?"
Julien's mind raced as he assessed the situation: The task of controlling the count's corpse was already straining as it was, but the uncertainty of maintaining that control over a greater distance added a complex layer to his predicament. He couldn't risk revealing the true nature of the count's condition, especially not right now.
"Thank you, Philippe, but Count Robert will first attend to the matters here with Hugh and myself, and then proceed to the stables," Julien stated, attempting to maintain an air of calm authority as he addressed Philippe.
Philippe's reaction, however, was not one of compliance. Instead, he cast a nervous glance towards Hugh, resembling an actor uncertain of his next line. "It is very important for Count Robert to come with me, Julien..." he insisted, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety.
"How could that possibly be a problem, Julien?" Hugh pressed, his tone gaining boldness. He turned his gaze towards the count, challenging the situation further. "And what about you, Robert? Won't you speak for yourself?"
Julien's patience snapped at Hugh's audacious disrespect. "Don't you dare address him without his title, Hugh!" he vociferated, his hand slamming down on the table with a force that echoed through the room.
The sudden outburst could have revealed Julien's commitment to maintaining the dignity and authority of the count, but it also exposed his growing frustration with the precariousness of their situation. Hugh, taken aback by Julien's fierce defense, realized he had overstepped a boundary: He hit a nerve, and he liked that.
The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably, and Hugh’s voice resonated with a mix of anger and determination: "Close the door, Philippe!" he commanded, and Philippe acted almost immediately, sealing the room. "We have had enough of your dark influence in our court, Julien Mazars! I don't know what your intentions are, but they are clearly corrupting our count Robert and his wife!"
In a swift, albeit clumsy motion, Hugh drew a dagger, brandishing it menacingly in Julien's direction. "I hoped to handle this matter discreetly, but I must do this for Omois!" His breathing was heavy, eyes alight with unbridled fury as he prepared to charge at Julien. It was evident in his stance and the fire in his gaze that he would not rest until Julien was finished.
