***
South Cairn, The Athawall Vale
Beatrice and Mark were now in a horse-drawn carriage, the entourage along with 15,000 troops given from Telmarath —the rest of the soldiers would be sent in the next two months.
"It's been a while since you returned to your lands," Beatrice said.
The woman's eyes darted to the side, looked out of the carriage's glass window, and saw an impressive green field.
Shepherds tended their sheep, knights practiced swordsmanship, and kids played happily.
Mark smiled, wondering if Beatrice was talking nonsense or if she was being sarcastic. Mark might rule South Cairn, but the archmage preferred the excitement of Telmarath.
"Once all the work is done, Telmarath doesn't seem to need me anymore,'" Mark declared.
Mark's right hand held a steel glass, pouring an alcoholic beverage made from fermented plum; the people of Telmarath called it Plum Doux.
Beatrice looked to her right, seeing Mark looking wholly messed up from the Plum Doux he had drunk.
But this being a time of celebration, it would be impolite of Beatrice to take the bottle and stop Mark from drinking it.
"I hate Plum Doux; it tastes sweet but smells awful," Beatrice complained.
"Then don't drink it. It's way too heavy for a spoiled woman like you," Mark retorted, laughing heartily as he leaned against the carriage wall.
"What about the land promised by His Majesty? Can you talk to Prince Aslan about that?" asked Beatrice.
Mark took another sip of the Plum Doux, downing it in one gulp. The bottle of Plum Doux on the table was empty, but luckily for him, he had brought a dozen of them from Telmarath.
"Aslan cannot do anything about it. It was King Richard's decision. I have to accept it," Mark stated, staring off to the side with Mark's face looking bright red, inebriated.
He seemed to be moving his body forward, ready to reopen the wooden crate of ten unopened bottles of Plum Doux; the man had greedily drunk two during the trip.
Beatrice shifted her sitting position, approached Mark, and closed the chest lid quickly, "Two bottles are enough! We'll be there shortly."
"Tch!"
"Then what about you? What will you do after this?" asked Mark, curious.
The man finally gave in, no longer intending to take the bottle of Plum Doux, and chose to ask Beatrice another question.
"I do not know."
"You already own the land granted by the King. With the size of the land and your high status, you have the status of a marquess, at least," Mark replied.
Beatrice did not answer Mark's words again; she preferred to look outside and see the procession of horses that had arrived at the city gate of South Cairn.
The people already knew the news of Mark Frederick's arrival. They gathered on either side of the city street, waving and cheering joyfully.
It was the same welcome as when they arrived in Telmarath. Mark opened the glass window by sliding it open, poking his head out as he waved, appreciating the welcome of the people.
"With all the wealth I have, it seems that settling in South Cairn is the way I choose for now," Mark replied, smiling and occasionally glancing at Beatrice.
Right in the center of the city was a pyramid-shaped castle made of quasar stone, just like the meaning of this city. It was Mark's residence as the young Lord of South Cairn.
The horse-drawn carriage stopped outside the front yard of Calden Castle —the name of Mark Frederick's residence. The carriage doors opened, and Mark and Beatrice came out in turn.
Not only did the people outside Calden Castle welcome them, but the servants, soldiers, and Mark's family also welcomed them with warmth and hospitality.
Mark's parents, Stephanie and Harold Frederick, stood at the front door of Calden Castle; one held a necklace of South Cairn's native flower, the orchid.
"Welcome, Mark," greeted Stephanie, smiling as she held the flower necklace out to Mark.
Mark knelt before his parents with bowed heads, allowing Stephanie to place the necklace around Mark's neck.
Beatrice smiled, still waiting behind Mark while standing. Stephanie looked up, lining up her eyes with Beatrice's.
"Welcome to you as well, Beatrice. Pleased to see you well," Stephanie replied.
Beatrice nodded, saying the same to Stephanie. The two were welcomed into Calden Castle, where a banquet with plenty of food was served in the hall.
Mark walked with his father, Harold Frederick, while Beatrice walked side by side with Stephanie.
Neither of Mark's parents had seen Avery's whereabouts. Still, because they hated Avery, the news of Avery Romarich's death had already spread to all the city leaders, whether big cities or small cities.
"I'm sorry for Avery's death. He was a great knight," Stephanie explained.
Beatrice nodded silently. Of course, Stephanie would say Avery was a great knight, not a good knight. The result of the hatred in the woman's heart.
The door to the hall opened, and people were already gathered in the place, mostly lords with the titles of Earl, viscount, and baron who controlled the small land around South Cairn.
"Lord Mark Frederick has arrived!" declared the guard, loudly announcing the man's arrival.
Mark walked along with his family and Beatrice in the hall's center, with the lords and knights who had gathered applauding loudly.
At first glance, the scene reminded Mark and Beatrice of when they received an invitation to a banquet from the Royal Family. Back then, Avery was still alive and sitting together in a table chair like the low-class lords in the hall today.
Beatrice walked to the side, realizing she had no right to sit in the front seat, but Stephanie refused because Beatrice had the same status as Mark.
As a result, Beatrice agreed to sit in the front seat, aligned with the families of the House of Frederick. Now, the banquet resumed with the voluptuous dances of the castle dancers.
People were drowning in drunkenness, cheering with happiness to find the heir to the House of Frederick had arrived safely at Calden Castle.
Harold stood up straight from his seat, gazing ahead with great seriousness. His right hand was raised, asking the banquet guests to be quiet.
"As I promised you before. If Mark Frederick manages to return safely from the Crimson Land, I will immediately hand over the rule of the House of Frederick to him," Harold explained.
Realizing all the attention of the banquet guests was on him, Mark immediately stood up straight, standing right next to Harold Frederick.
The door to the hall opened again, revealing a soldier carrying the House of Frederick's banner, a green background with an ash-colored center stripe, with the image of a stone pyramid plastered on it.
Harold stepped away from his desk, approached the bannerman, and received the banner. Stephanie and Beatrice began to stand, followed by the rest of the celebratory banquet guests.
The middle-aged man immediately handed Mark the banner of the House of Frederick. Now, Mark had officially become the leader of his house.
"Long live Lord Mark Frederick of the House of Frederick!"
Loud shouts filled the place, from knights, barons, and viscounts to earls. Beatrice smiled, happy that her surviving friend had a new responsibility to fulfill.
"We would be very happy if you would be a part of the House of Frederick, Beatrice," Stephanie stated.
Beatrice smiled, responding with no head gestures. In the past few days, many people had offered their child in marriage to Beatrice.
The beautiful archer did not come from a high noble family. She was just a baron's daughter who, luckily, joined Avery's sacred knight team.
After winning the war, Beatrice could potentially become a new lord with the title of marquess, equivalent to the peerage of the House of Frederick.
"What do you think?" asked Stephanie, whispering softly.
Beatrice remained silent, looking to the side with a faint smile. The pleasant face Stephanie had been showing faded as she saw Beatrice's response.
"Is it because of Avery?" asked Stephanie coldly.
"What do you mean?" asked Beatrice back.
"Avery is dead. The House of Romarich no longer has its protector. Do you want to be married with such a weak house?" asked Stephanie fiercely.
"That is none of your business, Lady Stephanie.”
