Under a Dimmed Sun [UNCENSORED]

SII: Chapter LXIII: The Death of Edward

The rain poured relentlessly outside Mohn's estate, the downpour echoing against the stone walls and amplifying the somber mood that had settled over the household. The sky was a heavy, oppressive gray, mirroring the weight of the news about to arrive.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves splashing through the mud broke the quiet of the estate. A messenger, drenched to the bone, rode in haste, his horse visibly exhausted. He dismounted swiftly, his soaked cloak clinging to him as he hurried toward the main entrance, urgency in every step.

The estate's guards, recognizing the Castilian court's seal on the letter he carried, allowed him immediate entry. Water dripped from his clothes onto the polished floors as he was escorted through the grand halls to the chambers of Albert of Mohn.

The chamber doors swung open, and the messenger, panting and dripping with rain, stepped inside. He bowed deeply before Albert, who looked up from his papers with a frown, immediately sensing the gravity of the situation.

"My lord," the messenger began, his voice strained from the arduous ride, "I bring urgent news from the court of Castile."

Albert's heart sank, a cold dread washing over him as he rose to take the letter. The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the relentless patter of rain against the windows. He broke the seal and began to read, his expression tightening with every line.

The message was brief but devastating: Edward, his brother, had died during the coronation banquet in Castile, a victim of a vicious attack meant for the king himself. The letter concluded with a command from the king, summoning Albert to the capital to bury his brother with the honor befitting his sacrifice.

Albert stared at the messenger, the news hitting him like a cold wave. The rain outside pattered against the windows, a grim accompaniment to the storm brewing within him. The message seemed to echo in his mind: Edward, gone. The estate, now his responsibility. The titles and power—things he had yearned for but not under such tragic circumstances.

As he paced back and forth, Albert's thoughts raced through the implications. Was it truly the Portus Kingdom, as rumors suggested, or was there a darker, more personal betrayal at play? The princess of Navarre, with whom he had a secret relationship, could be involved, but why now? The possibility of such a plot was both disturbing and unsettling.

Albert knew he had to act quickly. He needed to gather information, piece together the truth, and prepare for the unexpected challenges that would come with assuming control. The death of his brother had thrust him into a complex web of politics and intrigue, placing him at the center of it all. The storm outside seemed to mirror the turmoil within him as he prepared to face the uncertain future.

Madam Mohn, having received the devastating news of her firstborn's death, was overcome by a wave of grief so profound that it rendered her faint. She collapsed onto her bed, her face pale and eyes closed, the news of Edward's demise striking her with an intensity that left her unable to wake. The estate's servants gathered around her in a flurry of concern, their attempts to rouse her met with helplessness.

In the quiet corner of the chamber, Lady Velasco, Edward's wife, knelt beside her child, tears streaming down her face. Her anguished cries filled the room as she clutched her child tightly, her grief a raw and visible pain that echoed the loss of her husband. The sight of her, heartbroken and cradling her child, added to the oppressive sorrow that had settled over the estate.

Albert, faced with the monumental task of informing Alice of the tragedy, found her in a state of shock. Her initial reaction was one of disbelief as she heard the news. Edward had always struck her as a quiet, good man—an image of kindness and decency that contrasted sharply with the tensions that had existed between him and his younger brother, Albert.