The sun was rising on the horizon, pouring a pale light that gradually enveloped the funeral garden.
An unusual quiet hung in the air, a heavy silence broken only by the muffled whisper of the wind through the cypress trees, creating an atmosphere suited for reflection.
Kaiser walked down the central gravel path, the crunch beneath his soles sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. He absently adjusted the sleeves of his black suit, a garment specially tailored for this day.
The thick fabric, ink-black, was enhanced with discreet silver embroidery forming a geometric pattern of straight lines and interlocking circles along the collar and cuffs. This ornamentation, both classic and austere, gave his figure a sober and impeccable appearance, perfectly in keeping with what was expected of a young noble in mourning.
'In the end, that bastard's stubbornness cost him dearly… can't wait for this to be over, I'd rather have kept training… but I suppose I have to play my part,' Kaiser thought as he straightened his attire.
Isaak had been only seventeen. Seventeen years old, a life cut short in the prime of youth. Had he not had the system at that moment, Kaiser himself might well have been the one in a coffin today.
It served as a reminder all the same: in this world, death often struck with arbitrary brutality. Only strength mattered.
The noble families had begun to arrive, filling the space with their silent presence. Several barons, accompanied by their children, exchanged discreet greetings with viscounts and a few counts who had come with their retinues.
Not far away, Duke Donoghan and his family, dressed in dark and costly fabrics, were receiving those who came to pay respects with the dignity befitting their high rank.
Those bastards were using a funeral for networking; you could almost think it was the Donoghan family in mourning.
A little apart, the delegation from the Duchy of Hornraven drew every eye. The duke himself had sent his apologies, but he had dispatched his daughter as emissary.
Ariana Hornraven advanced with slow, graceful steps. Her black dress was elegantly simple, yet her bearing and the gravity of her demeanor lent her an impressive maturity.
Her black gown, though modest, was cut to follow her form. The fabric slid over broad shoulders and descended, outlining a full, high bosom.
Her chestnut hair, drawn into a chignon, accentuated the pure oval of her face and the sensual line of her neck. Her lips, naturally full and a deep violet shade, were slightly parted. The dress cinched at her slender waist before flaring over generous, rounded hips whose faint sway was barely perceptible yet present, keeping time with her measured steps. At her back, the cloth hugged the firm curve of her buttocks, suggesting restrained firmness rather than mere voluptuousness.
When she stopped, standing slightly sideways, the light caught the profile of her bust and the long line of her leg, taut beneath the gown. Her hands came together in greeting other nobles.
She wore an enchanting smile, and a simple motion of her forearms caused the silk to swell slightly over her chest.
She was Kaiser's former fiancée and a mage of legendary talent with affinities for wind and fire.
Kaiser noticed that many gazes, filled with respect and curiosity, were drawn to her. Her reputation for intelligence and insight preceded her.
The arrival of Isaak's fiancée, Katrina Lancaster, daughter of Count Lancaster, then caused a barely perceptible ripple. As a half-elf, her beauty was not entirely human and immediately captured attention.
Her delicate features and clear gaze, always seeming on the verge of emotion, gave her a fragile appearance. Her long white hair cascaded over her shoulders with black tips, framing a slender waist and gestures imbued with a restraint that heightened the impression of vulnerability. To anyone who did not know her, she embodied the gentle, grieving young woman shattered by sorrow.
Yet Kaiser knew the sinister truth hidden beneath those appearances. In the novel, after Isaak's death, Katrina had gradually revealed a very different nature, becoming one of the story's most formidable and ruthless antagonists. That gentleness was merely a mask; she was destined to embrace a thirst for power that would eventually lead to her own downfall, killed by the protagonist.
He watched her approach the dark wooden coffin. She placed a pale hand upon it, bowing her head in a gesture of profound affliction. Around her, murmurs of sympathy were hushed.
"Poor child," whispered an older lady.
"What a tragic fate for such a young love," added a noble beside her.
The ceremony truly began with the arrival of the priest, clad in a long black robe and carrying a heavy prayer book that he opened with solemn slowness. The nobles gathered respectfully around the remains. In a clear, steady voice, the priest began the eulogy, speaking of Isaak's youth, his qualities, and the affection his family held for him. Kaiser listened with half an ear, his attention more drawn to observing the reactions and dynamics at play in the assembly. It was a valuable opportunity for networking on his part as well.
When the time came for the burial, the nobles filed past one by one to lay a white flower on the coffin. Kaiser followed suit, synchronizing his movements with the others so as not to stand out. The ropes were deployed, and the coffin descended into the grave with ritual slowness, the dark wood gradually disappearing into the depths of the earth.
Little by little, the gathering began to break into small groups that reformed here and there. Conversations, at first subdued and grave, gradually resumed, already shifting to other topics, other concerns. Kaiser lingered a moment longer beside the freshly covered grave, absorbing the final scenes, analyzing the farewells and the exchanged glances.
He finally made his way toward a group of young nobles engaged in discussion; they had been acquaintances of his late brother. They were speaking of their respective academies and the latest training techniques.
"Our condolences for your loss, Lord Kaiser."
Kaiser greeted them with a polite nod.
After a brief exchange, he excused himself and approached Ariana Hornraven, who remained slightly apart, her analytical gaze sweeping the crowd.
"Lady Ariana," he began calmly. "Allow me to thank you for making the journey for Isaak."
She turned a sharp, thoughtful gaze upon him. "It was my duty to come."
"Your presence honors his memory. Your family is held in the highest esteem."
"I am aware of that," she replied simply. "I see you are doing well, Kaiser…" She smiled and narrowed her eyes.
The brief conversation held no great depth, yet Kaiser made no mention whatsoever of the broken engagement. That made her a little curious, after all; Kaiser had once been madly in love with her.
Her gaze then shifted once more to Katrina. She was now surrounded by a small circle of consolers, but her face had regained an almost unsettling calm facade. She exchanged polite words with each, perfectly mastering her role as the grieving young woman. Nothing betrayed the ambitious, ruthless woman she was destined to become.
"More than anything, I must succeed in gaining the favorable attention of the five duchesses, those master pieces on the kingdom's political chessboard. Seducing them is a strategic necessity to ensure not only my social ascent but my very survival in this merciless world."