The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 124: Chapter 123: And So the Villain Makes His Exit

Read chapter 124 of The Distinguished Mr. Rose by QuiteTheSlacker on NovelPedia.

Chapter 123: And So the Villain Makes His Exit The very first structure to be rebuilt amongst all the rubble and collapsed passages littered about the city was the castle. It once stood at the very center, towering high over the citizens from atop the tallest hill, and so it would be that those spires of glittering marble be remade, polished, given even greater worship. The people labored restlessly to clear their holy site. When given the order to gather, they did so willingly and without pause. It was only natural. To them, the castle and its splendorance was what represented the spirit of Francia. These people needed comfort, and so they found it in the familiar embrace of the Lord they so cherished all these years. They gave up their riches, their sweat, their blood and tears. They did this all so that the castle would shine once more, illuminating the path that which they should next follow. Piece by piece, stone by stone, until the halls were lined with gold once more. After weeks of effort, they had finally done it. They stood under the shadow of the mighty palace and the strength it represented. It rose grandly above as a monument to their hopes and the resolution they swore in their hearts: Francia would live. Even should they lose everything, even if their brothers and sisters were to fall, Francia would prosper. For the emperor still lived, and today he was to take his rightful place on the throne and inherit the crown of Francia. The people gathered in droves atop the castle’s courtyard. They were not allowed within for this momentous occasion, but nonetheless their spirits were bright, and they prostrated themselves, kneeling low, on the grass. They raised their arms up in reverence and waited for the conclusion of their lord’s ceremony. Deep inside, past the gates and closed off doors, a procession of priests somberly marched through the dimly lit halls. They raised aloft small wicks of incense and scattered its smoke to the far reaches behind, where many more priests, paladins, and figures of the faith walked on, their voices joining in a shared litany. “Almighty God, unto whom all grace be open,” they uttered. “Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily revere your holy will, through the avatar of your child. Sing his name, o’ Mother. Let all know he is good and cherished. Charlemagne, our beloved Charlemagne. Gold runs through his veins and touches his lips. Charlemagne, our dear Charlemagne. Let this land never forget. Let it be rung all through the starry heavens: His name is Charlemagne, the holy emperor.” At the very center of the group, there rested a figure veiled in delicate golden robes. Their face was covered and their features were masked. Onward, they shuffled as the sound of their steps were drowned by the deep, rumbling prayers of the masses. So dense was the procession around them that the figure’s tiny form could hardly be made out, yet there was a powerful air that lingered, settling within their quiet breaths. “Are you certain about this, my young friend?” a certain gentleman by their side asked, to which he received a soft laugh in response. It was soft but also subtly pained. The figure in the robe, the boy whose duty he knew had to be inherited, could not respond to the gentleman for some time. He lifted his fingers and touched his heart, feeling the chaotic beat hidden from all else. It was loud. It was nervous. But nonetheless, he had to continue. For in his veins ran a lineage of gold. “Thank you for being with me, Lucius,” the boy said. “But… this is what I have to do. What I was born to do.” “The one person who can decide your fate is yourself, Karolus. You will always have a choice.” The boy paused for a moment, reflective, but in the end his mind was set. These chains that bound him here, he chose to wear them willingly. “... You’re the only one who still calls me that name, now that Uncle Ganelon’s imprisoned,” he eventually spoke. “You should