Prologue
As the sun gently emerged from the eastern horizon, the populace of Castle Trenni roused from slumber and emerged to begin the new day.
At the toll of the first bell, peddlers and shopkeepers promptly opened their stalls and shops, while craftsmen of various professions started plying their trade. The streets soon became packed with pedestrians, animals and wagons. Only the lazy, the rich or the noble would still be asleep right now.
Despite being the capitol of the kingdom, Castle Trenni was built with defense in mind, not commerce, and thus was classified neither a city nor a castle, but a citadel. In other words, a city contained within a castle.
An outer perimeter stone wall, thirty feet tall and fifteen feet wide, sandwiched the outer city between the inner city and the outlying lands. The outlying lands beyond the outer perimeter walls went as far as the eye could see from the tallest tower; vast undulating landscape covered in farmlands, orchards, vineyards and livestock pens. The outer city on the other hand was cramped, consisting mostly of housing apartments, craftsmen shops, markets, inns, and taverns.
An inner perimeter wall, about twice as tall and twice as wide as the outer walls, surrounded the inner city, the heart of the capitol. Within it were important civil, military and ecclesiastical infrastructures, such as the city hall, cathedral, luxurious mansions and wealthy apartments, academies, barracks, armories, stables, and grain stores. In the middle of the inner city was the home of the monarchy, the royal palace.
The royal palace was where the king and his family lived, tended by a host of guards, staff and servants. Standing eight storeys tall, it was built by the most skillful craftsmen using the finest materials, and as such stood out like a bright jewel despite being surrounded by numerous esthetic buildings.
On the fourth floor of the royal palace, within a luxurious bedchamber. Despite the early hours of the morning, its occupant was awake.
The noblewoman's calm and graceful features portrayed the elegance of a mature adult, yet retained the physical attractiveness of a young maiden. As such, her age can be anywhere between twenty five and thirty, though her real age was slightly older than that range.
Her name was Alda. She was the wife of Lord Brent, nephew of King Adrian the second. Her father-in-law was Duke Harold, younger brother of the king, and governor of Castle Trenni.
While the king was by right governor of the capitol, King Adrian was an eccentric ruler who spent most of the year away from the capitol. During spring and summer, he and his encourage toured north and east of the kingdom. Come winter they would turn south, then west before returning to the capitol at the start of spring. Before the season was over they would depart again on the same route, thus Duke Harold elected to take charge of the capitol's administration in the king's absence.
As the king's nephew's wife, Lady Alda was ranked among the most royal and most prestigious nobles in the Kingdom of Trenni. After getting out of bed, she went to sit before the dressing table and called out for her maids, who entered moments later.
"Good morning, Lady Alda."
The two maids of varying height and age greeted before approaching their mistress. As they tended to her long, silver hair using a variety of brushes and combs, Alda noticed something was amiss.
"Where is Luthred?"
Luthred was her son, and her only child. Every morning, the boy would rush from his bedroom opposite hers to greet if not wake her. Even though he was permitted to remain in bed longer, Alda took great pride that her son, like herself, automatically wakes up during the first bell toll.
The reason they wake so early was not due to discipline or habit, but rather because of their keen sense of hearing, which made the church's morning bell toll a very effective alarm to wake to.
"The young master is still asleep, your grace."
Alda blinked at the unexpected response, but did not dwell on it. Perhaps her son had stayed up late, which was not uncommon. After her maids finished tending to her hair, they brought in a pail of warm water and were about to undress and wash her when someone gently knocked on the door.
"Who is it?"
Alda called out, albeit motioning for the maids to continue their task.
"Your husband. May I come in?"
Came the muffled reply. Alda replied that he may. The door opened and the king's nephew entered. Lord Brent was twenty seven years old, tall, square shouldered, and had short dark brown hair. He owned most of the apple orchards outside Castle Trenni, which he sublet and in return received monthly rent and a quarter of the harvests.
Realizing that his wife was in the midst of being undressed, the nobleman coughed and looked aside. The corners of Alda's lips rose.
"What is the matter, dear husband?"
She asked in a playful manner and motioned for her maids to pause. Whilst keeping his eyes averted, Lord Brent pulled out an envelope from his vest and handed it to her. The envelope was sealed with a familiar red wax insignia.
Alda smiled wryly before accepting the letter. It reads: to Lady Alda and Lord Brent. From Hans Lawrence, Rowen Trading Guild branch manager of Ruvenheigen. Her lips raised higher by a fraction.
"And why are you passing this to me?"
She inquired with mock curiosity. Usually when letters were addressed to them, her husband would read it first. Lord Brent shrugged sheepishly.
"It's from your brother. I won't understand any of it, anyway."
His statement was a fact. The first few times he tried, it left him more confused than the times his mentor taught him philosophy as a child. Alda chuckled softly at her husband's expense.
"Very well, I will let Hans know his writing is too cryptic. Now, will you leave, or would you like to stand there and watch me being undressed?"
She asked nonchalantly while breaking the wax seal, at the same time motioning for her maids to continue with their task. Lord Brent stiffened before hastily exiting his wife's bed-chamber.
When he was outside, the nobleman shook his head with a sigh. Like brother, like sister, he thought whilst walking away, and could have sworn he heard more than one woman laughing from the bed-chamber.