Three days later, at the Royal Capital Cathedral.
Morning light streamed through the windows onto the mural on the opposite wall. The Lord of Everglory sat upon the Cloudsea Throne, clad in the Sun-Radiance Robe, one hand poised beneath a brilliant orb symbolizing the world, the other reaching toward humankind.
The Eternal Radiance Church's Choir sang a solemn hymn. Ethereal harmonies echoed beneath the cathedral's vaults, cleansing the souls of everyone who entered.
Nearly every powerful high noble in the Duchy was present. Dressed in their most formal attire, they sat on either side according to rank and family seniority. The atmosphere was solemn; no one spoke. Marquis Ironwall, Marcus, sat in the front row, his expression impassive. The core members of the Imperial Faction beside him likewise maintained the last vestiges of their aristocratic dignity.
The chief clerk's voice rang out between the hymns, carrying throughout the cathedral.
"The Investiture Ceremony will now begin."
"Welcome the newly appointed count, Lord Weilin Klein."
The cathedral's bronze doors opened without a sound.
Veylin stood outside, wearing a newly tailored white-and-gold ceremonial outfit befitting a count. White was its dominant color, symbolizing the pure white stone of Minas Tirith, his territorial capital. Gold thread traced intricate, abstract patterns of waves and towers along the collar, cuffs, and hem, understated yet exquisite.
Count Lyman and Count Diana stood behind him, one on either side.
"Don't be nervous."
Diana spoke very softly. She wore a long gold-and-white dress that day, solemn and elegant.
"I'm not."
Veylin answered. He truly was not. This was merely a necessary formality, a performance to announce an established fact to the world.
He stepped forward onto the red carpet leading to the altar.
Every noble inside the cathedral focused on him. Their gazes held curiosity, scrutiny, jealousy, and carefully