Chapter VIII Pt. 1: Benedict

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The court of King Gallo of Sersalvon had gathered in the Grand Hall. Being part of the royal family, Benedict stood at the end of the hall, on the right side of the Serpent Throne. And how royal they were; the Navíste family was tall, a testament to the blood they inherited from the House of Seraselv which ruled the Seraselv Empire. Even King Gallo, although a tad plump, stood over six feet. Fyrncisco's wife, Princess Consort Risarda held the arm of the Crown Prince, followed by Lyandro, Charlotte, and Benedict (protocol demanded that Charlotte stand next to her father, but she threw it to the wind), Jacquez, and his wife.

To the left, the Lord Constable, Lord Steward, Lady Treasurer, and Lord Grand Admiral stood in their respective places. Sieur Tavaris took his place at the head of the Angelic Guard, flanking the Serpent Throne and the Consort's Chair.

The hall felt so different than it had yesterday. Filled to the brim with color, laughter, and life. All traces of the brooding, somber atmosphere had vanished like darkness before the sun. Bishop Ezquivel began the court with a prayer to each of the Twelve Archangels and one to the Angel King. His wife, Bishop Yna followed by reading verses from the Holy Writ; this week was about the nature and importance of love, one of the central themes of the Holy Writ and the Virtue of Amarantha, the Archangel of Love.

"―and with the end of the homily we can mark and celebrate the beginning of Amaratius, the Month of Love!" finished Bishop Yna.

Benedict started―he'd forgotten the date! It was already Amaratius? He groaned inwardly; he had reached the age of courtship and Sersalvonian tradition demanded he throw himself into the pool of bachelors and maids to begin searching for a bride once he reached his first Amaratius at sixteen.

Not unless you become a scholar. A comforting idea. Benedict had neither the time nor the will to pursue a relationship.

Well, technically he had loads of time. He was the thirdborn prince, after all. But he really didn't have the will.

The recess period began. Already servants began serving watered-down cocktails as the members of the court began to mix and mingle. Benedict just sat down with Charlotte, uninterested in the recess.

"They'll be a party today, you know," Charlotte whispered to him.

Benedict scratched his head, confused. "Wasn't there a party last night?"

Charlotte nodded. "That was to celebrate the onset of Amaratius. It was hosted by Risarda. This one is sanctioned by the bishops themselves. And guess what?"

"What?"

"You're coming."

Benedict sighed. He originally hadn't. But... oh well. "Okay."

Charlotte smirked.

"Shut up," he said. She pinched him in response.

Benedict noticed a few people glancing and staring at him. He immediately assumed that they had heard about what had happened last night. That, or they were eyeing him as a prospect. Now that he had hit his first Amarantius at sixteen, he was an eligible bachelor and a potential opportunity at being close to the Throne. Although Lyandro was the secondborn, his reputation for drunkenness and gambling made him undesirable. In Sersalvon, one could not force marriage upon their child, for the consent of the child was necessary. And it would take an ambitious young lady to consent to marry Lyandro. Of course, Sersalvon had no shortage of those. But Lyandro had no interest in marriage.

He preferred his whores.

Charlotte tapped his shoulder. Someone was approaching. Benedict quickly and clumsily stood up as he saw he was being approached by the daughter of the Duke of Poetalia, Lyria delle Poetalia, followed by her ladies-in-waiting. Her house was an ancient one, dating back to the beginning of the Seraselv Empire. She was also a student at the University of Khamiella.

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