[center][color=#8b2323][h1]ℬastien de Warenne,[/h1]
[sub]Allons, Dieu ayde
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0d4qM7gCH8]Da Pacem Domine[/url][/sub][/color][/center]
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Heavy, heavy was the rain, which poured down on the noble knights' helmet, tapping lightly and gently, but made sure to make the knight shiver in cold as he thought of the warm bed he'd receive in the kings castle. Bastien looked forwards, seeing the gates in front of him, marking his entrance into the city. [i]Riadan.[/i] Once a stout, noble city, now a city stricken with grief for the loss of their king. Or so he presumed. That's how it'd been in Dieuporteille, where two weeks of grief had been enforced by his father. His white noble horse carried the knight into the city, and Bastien found himself surprised to find citizens of Riadan standing there, in the rain, looking at him. For a moment he was taken aback, but continued on his way, through the streets. Luckily they'd left the streets somewhat clear, enabling Bastien to ride past the many people.

The citizens were apparently aware of Bastien's heritage of Dieuporteille, and his fame as a fighter might've superseded him. Several people cheered him on, and some of the women waved their handkerchiefs at him. Bastien acknowledged them by a glance in their direction. He could feel the weight of the burden of the kings' death on his shoulders, and it did not feel right to be merry so soon after his death. The only thing that felt more heavy at this point was his heavy armor, and the metal shield that clanked on his back, being attached over the shoulder with the workings of some leather straps. It was made all the more uncomfortable as his bastard sword clanked against his hip, and against his horse. 

He rode through the street that contained the statues of the Paragons, and looked at them as he rode past, bowing his head in shame for not being able to be as great as them. That'd be a long time, a long time since he could ever aspire to be that great. When he reached the statue of the late king, which was still being constructed, he stopped his horse.

For a moment he stood in the rain, looking at the unfinished statue. The townspeople around him became quiet, looking at the knight, watching him closely as he bowed his head down, and spoke some words to himself. [color=#8b2323]“Blessed be his Holy Soul, for his great works and his greater sense of right and wrong. That Sindoras took you for the right reasons we can only hope, but know you left behind an empire worthy of being called the most blessed on Eldas.”[/color] When he looked up again, Bastien made a cross in the air, before grabbing the reins of his horse again and forcing the horse to walk again. Now that the man continued on his way, the citizens started talking again, though Bastien did not seem to pay attention to anything going on around him. 

The short ride to the castle keep that was home to the new king was.. short. Bastien left his horse in the care of the nearby stablehand, and walked into the large castle. Which meant climbing the gigantic stairwell. It was a task that he'd undertaken a few times before and every single time felt more awe-inspiring than the last time. That didn't take away from the fact that it was quite the climb.

A long ten minute climb later he finally found himself in front of the keep. The entry was guarded by some men, but luckily they recognized him. It wasn't hard to recognize him due to the small, iron seal that was attached to his armor on the location of his heart, which was colored with the colors of his house. He walked inside the large hall, and continued to walk towards the hall where the king would be found -- likely sitting on his throne. 

As he approached the king, who was not even a man yet, he could not help but notice the boy had an older man, likely an uncle or family member with him. It did not phase Bastien, since he was a loyal servant, but perhaps it was important to keep an eye on this man. As he stood before the new king, he looked at the boy for a moment. [color=#8b2323]“My king..”[/color] he spoke, softly, before he rapidly pulled out his sword. For a moment it put the old man that was with the king on edge, and Bastien noticed the hand of the man being put on his own sword. Behind him he heard movement of some guards, but Bastien kneeled down before anything happened. 

He planted his sword into the red roll of carpet that lead from the entrance to the throne. He bowed his head, deeply, deeper than he should have. [color=#8b2323]“My condolences for the loss of your father. He was an honorable man, a good man, whom I knew personally to be a king of the likes we've never seen before. I am sure that you are a man of equal stature, a man of God. As we say in Dieuporteille, [i]Dieu prend et Dieu donne..[/i] God gives and God takes. He has taken your father, but blessed us with your wisdom and youth. I am sure you will become a man like your father, great, noble, brave, but above all.. [b]just.[/b] That is how God would see this happen, and so it will happen..”[/color]

He stayed like that, kneeling before his king, until he was given the indication that his king was satisfied and that he could get up. When he got that indication, he got up, sheathed his sword and stepped to the side, taking up a position near a large stone pillar, standing there and waiting for the rest of the advisors. He'd heard that the other grand dukes would send someone, too, and he could only wonder who these dukes would have picked..