It was a night of grand importance. A night that, despite the shroud of gray in the outside, was meant to be happy.

The war has come to an end. The soldiers returned victorious. And the empire seemed to have lit up once more.

One man’s name was on everyone’s tongue. The focal point of every conversation. It was a man whose background was shrouded in mystery and gloom.

Godfrey Montaigne.

A general. The emperor’s right hand. And the patriarch of the house of Montaigne. A Grand Duke.

But why was someone of such importance so very soundless? Why was someone with such wealth and status so..unordinary?

There was no right answer to the question. The house of Montaigne and its history dated back to medieval times. Their lineage dating back hundreds if not thousands of years.

Its men were brave and strong. Fighting the fiercest battles and emerging unscathed. The women were beautiful and educated. Authoring thousands of books and speaking the poetry of their times.

They not outgrow these traditions. The house was very old fashioned in a manner that made it seem unapproachable. In a way that all the present aristocracy sought no trouble from the householders.

Montaigne would enter his very large yet very old manor. Attended immediately by his wise but aged man-servant, Gerald. Their actions were wordless and telepathic on numerous levels. Gerald would swiftly remove Montaigne’s coat and hang it, showing the patriarch upstairs.

The house was beautiful but timeworn. The walls were lengthy but tarnished by a small fissure. The paintings of battle and previous Montaigne householders did little to lighten the stifling environment. The windows were sheathed by thin curtains, allowing the dimmest of lights to enter the home.

Godfrey would reach a grand door, those that lead to his master bedroom. In it, was his wife. A wife that understood his behavior. His wordlessness. She was beautiful no doubt, but she had an ill-lit past herself. Sold by her own malnourished family and sent to the darkest mountains to marry a man she’d never met. A man who hadn’t spoken a single word to her except the words

“I do”

Now that Godfrey was back from war, he still seemed to have no intention of illuminating his persona.

Opening the door, Godfrey spotted his wife in the center of the room.