Lucien rode back to his castle on horseback, declining the carriage as he asked the footman to ride along without him. He needed the wind in his hair to cleanse his thoughts and the even said thoughts needed to be clear for what was to come.
The Castle of Bloodwick was an ancient staple passed down for generations to only the kings and queens of Ravathorne. After his father's death and his brother's untimely demise, his uncle had moved them to the castle permanently until he was old enough for the crown. It wasn't without struggle, however, as the Ravathornian Court resisted him for many months upon his coronation.
So he had them all executed.
A discontent court was a useless one in Lucien's eyes. He couldn't understand how Fabio could stand the whining of his own council every bloody day.
