It didn’t take too long before Darion arrived back at the castle.
He rode straight to the stable and packed the horse, looking it over before walking toward the castle. He had decided sowhere on the ride back that this was his favourite horse now, it was far better looking and better fed than the others, and that alone was enough to earn the title.
Though the thought made him wonder. Why was feeding horses even a problem here? Didn’t they eat grass?
That made him think back to the sights he had taken in on the ride to the graveyard with Garren. He hadn’t seen a single patch of grass the entire journey. Not one. The ground had been bare and dry and grey, like the earth itself had given up.
This kingdom was basically barren.
He wondered what could cause sothing like that: the absence of grass, sothing nature gave out freely without asking anything in return. And those grey clouds that seed permanently stationed overhead, like they had nowhere better to be.
There was sothing deeply wrong with this land beyond just poverty and debt. Sothing stranger than that.
He filed the thought away and walked into the castle.
Inside, he found Garren crouched by the Fireplace, successfully coaxing a fire to life. The man turned at the sound of footsteps.
"Welco, m’lord," he said, rising and bowing. "How was the... adventure?"
Darion smiled, slightly caught off guard by the word choice.
"It was fine. Progress was made."
Before Garren could ask anything about that answer, Darion nodded toward the now-crackling fire.
"Keeping the castle warm, I see."
Garren glanced back at it. "Winter is almost here. The weather has been turning cold, showing its signs early." He paused, then shrugged. "Though lighting the fire place is just a daily thing regardless."
"I see... I see."
Just then, a woman ca hurrying through a side door into the great hall, stopped in front of Darion, and bowed quickly.
"Lunch is ready, m’lord."
She was fair, beautiful in her own dazzling way, though the simple worn and almost torn clothing she was wearing almost hid that.
Darion blinked. "Lunch? There’s actually food in this castle?"
"There is," Garren replied before the woman could answer. "I caught a large bush animal early this morning. Had been intending to manage it over a few days, until..." he paused. "Until we got a new Baron."
So the man had caught at that would have lasted him days, and after Darion had spent an hour at the graveyard digging up and reviving corpses, Garren had quietly instructed the cook to prepare sothing from it.
Darion looked at him. "That’s generous of you, Sir Garren. I appreciate it."
Garren looked genuinely caught off guard. "You don’t have to thank , m’lord—"
"I’m not a spoilt leader, Sir Garren," Darion said, with a small smile. He turned to the cook. "Did you serve him a plate?"
The cook shook her head in the negative.
"Thought as much." Darion said. "Do that now. Give him a large portion of the at and take whatever remains for yourself and whoever else in this castle it will reach."
"M’lord," Garren said imdiately, sothing close to alarm in his voice. "That is the last food in the castle. There are no other provisions, no other at, nothing stored away." He paused. "We have also had no coins for months. We cannot purchase anything even if there were sothing to buy."
Darion let that settle, his face neutral.
Percvale was sothing else entirely. Even the most struggling kingdoms usually had sothing within their castle walls: so small reserve, and so dignity of resource. But here, the common folk in the barony were probably better off than the Baron and his own castle. No food, no coins, nothing.
No wonder the Empress had said he wouldn’t last a week.
But that thought led to another, darker one. The Emperor ruled Valvanos, the continent Percvale was part of. Looking after territories within his empire — even neglected, struggling ones — was supposed to be the man’s responsibility, Baron or no Baron. And yet nothing had been done. No aid, no intervention, nothing.
The more Darion thought about it, the more it felt intentional. Like this place had been deliberately left to rot. A punishnt disguised as a posting. Offend the Emperor and instead of a swift death, they sent you here to slowly suffocate ruling over sothing like this.
Crazy.
"Crazy how this castle hasn’t got a single morsel of food to its na," Darion said, shaking his head slowly. "But don’t worry. We shall hunt this evening."
Garren stared at him. "Hunt? The forests are—"
"Let’s go eat first, Sir Garren," Darion said, already turning toward the dining hall. "I’ll explain the details after."
The dining hall was large and mostly empty-feeling, the long table set for two at one end. The al itself was simple, a pepper soup, thin on ingredients but carrying the warmth and sll of sothing properly cooked. The at sat in it, generous pieces of it, and that alone made it better than it had any right to be given the circumstances.
Darion ate. It was good. And even though it wasn’t a al that ca from a kitchen stocked with spices and lots of food items to better the taste, it was still good.
He finished his bowl and sat back feeling full for the first ti since arriving in Percvale.
Across the table, Garren ate quietly, with the restraint of a man who had learned not to rush food when food was scarce.
When they were both done, Darion pushed back his chair and stood.
"Sir Garren," he said. "I need you to go to the knights’ barracks and tell every able knight to assemble at the training ground in two hours. Every single one of them."
Garren looked up from the table. "All of them, m’lord? All hundred and twenty-one?"
"All of them," Darion confird. "There are things that need to be said..."
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