The lord of any land was expected to have three redeeming qualities – wisdom, compassion and determination. The current Grand Lord of Valkenn, however, had perhaps only one of them. Whilst Marcus Valenti was determined to see his land and family name thrive; where any other lord was wise, he was cunning. Where some lords were compassionate, he was ruthless. 

     The Valenti’s hate for the Redbanes had been meticulously passed down from generation to generation, with each passing year only adding more reasons for both families to despise each other.

     Despite the hate running through the grand lord’s veins, his only son and heir was identical in nothing more than his appearance. Valerius Valenti was everything his father could have been – charming and compassionate, with people who loved him and cared to see him named Grand Lord of Valkenn when the time came.

     From where he sat within one of the castles many lounges, amongst the bustle of servants, whores and guards alike, Valerius tried hard to focus on the book he held in his hands. He had been terribly busy that morning, helping his father go through the land’s accounts and decide how much more it would cost to finance the war both families refused to put an end to.

     It’s a wonder we’ll be able to carry on affording it, he thought to himself, but didn’t dare to say aloud.

     “Put the books down, you look like a timid student lost in a whorehouse.” a cheery voice said to him before a pale hand came slamming down onto the young lord's book.

     Valerius sighed and looked up to where his cousin Aderico sat beside him. Both men were of similar ages, Valerius being twenty-three and Aderico twenty-one, yet despite being near identical in their interests – gambling, drinking, and wrestling – there were the small things which made them their own selves.

     Aderico Valenti was young, rich, and charming. He loved his women as much as they loved him, and whilst he didn’t use his status as lord to exert power over whores or ladies; he didn’t have to. Women seemed to fawn over him wherever he went. To his father’s disappointment, the young lord took a new woman to bed almost every other night.

     Lord Baleon had scolded his son many times over, reminding him of his status and the responsibility which came with it. As though he really believed it would change his son’s ways.

     “You know,” Valerius began after some time. He had been too busy trying to read again but found he couldn’t concentrate with all the noise. “If you picked a book up occasionally, and read it, that’s right – read it, not just flipped through it – you’d be amazed to learn there is more to life than just messing around with women and money.”

     Aderico stuck his tongue out at his cousin. “Some of the greatest men in history were womanisers. Did you happen to miss that out whilst reading those history books you love so much?” he replied. “Iyvan Heist. He was one of the greatest warriors alive, with records of his achievements to prove so, and he loved his women more than I did. How many wives was he lucky enough to have in his lifetime? Five, six?”

     Everyone in The Allied Kingdoms knew who Iyvan Heist was, a brilliant-minded man and an even better warrior. The man had fought alongside Phaecius Valenti, Valerius’ great-grandfather, and his son Rendell. He had nearly helped the Valentis win the war, were it not for Barathus Redbane’s unexpected alliance with pirates from The Divided Kingdoms.

     The alliance had been unpopular after Barathus had agreed to pardon the pirates of their crimes against the free people of Iradas. But to the Valentis fury, the first glimpse of their burning fleet had restored the public’s love for Barathus; leaving the Redbane’s rule more popular than ever. Nothing could touch the bastards. Nothing had for the last few generations to have passed. Every misfortune came with a double blessing shortly afterwards. Barathus Redbane had been a man of many talents, and one of them was winning. He never lost a battle and the first and last time he did, it cost him his life.

     “My father told me the best way to learn how to lead and to rule is by actually doing something. Learning from mistakes is the way to go, not reading about the past victories of now deceased men.”

     Valerius tutted at him playfully and he snapped his book shut. “That’s exactly what an uneducated man would say, cousin. Books are as important as swords; they’re weapons in their own right.” That was the difference between the two lords. Valerius was on his way to becoming a master strategist, because he believed in the power of learning from those now dead – through many studious hours over history books and maps, diary entries and such – and then comparing them to the tactics of men like his father; the Grand Lord of Valkenn.

     But despite Valerius’ respect for his father, there were times when it almost embarrassed him to be called his son, and it was not due to his father sharing his childhood misfortunes and tales.

     Marcus Valenti was a master of many facades. A cruel and cunning leader to the public, a devoted husband and father to his family – and a monster. He didn’t share his troubles with his wife or brother, but with the rim of a cup and a bottle of wine nearby.

     On better days, he remained within his own company, as far away from others. But on some days, he would send his wife and children hiding behind locked doors – weeping, screaming, trembling. They often fell asleep to the rhythm of his fists against their doors, a violent lullaby. Even if they couldn’t sleep, they forced themselves to, with silent pleading prayers of a better father in the morning.

     Valerius was a man full grown now, and although he carried the scars to remind him of his father’s tortured nature, the young lord did his best to remain unbroken. With his mind and heart both closely guarded, Valerius willed himself to love his father, nonetheless. He wanted to be like Marcus, despite his true self – cunning, respected, feared! But to his father’s open disapproval, what his son wanted above all was to be loved deeply and treasured fiercely.