The Weight of Blood and Name (1)

The grand doors of Whitefield Manor swung open, letting in a gust of crisp autumn air that did little to dispel the formal silence of the entrance hall. The tall, imposing figure of Count Sirius Whitefield stepped into the foyer, the authoritative tap of his cane on the marble floor preceding him. The weight of his journey clung to him in the fine layer of road dust on his greatcoat and the deep-set fatigue in his sharp, glacial blue eyes, yet his posture remained rigid, his bearing radiating the same formidable grace that commanded both respect and fear.

His pale blond hair, touched with distinguished silver at the temples, was immaculately combed. A neatly trimmed mustache, equally touched with gray, adorned his stern upper lip, adding to his severe handsomeness. Those signature Whitefield eyes—piercing and cold—swept over the reception party, missing nothing.

Behind him, his attendant, a slender man with neatly slicked-back dark hair and a thin, precise mustache of his own, followed silently. Elias carried two leather suitcases, each packed with the exact number of impeccably maintained garments required for the duration of the trip—not one item more, not one less.

A straight line of servants in spotless uniforms stood at stiff attention, their heads bowed in unison. Before them stood the Count's three children, a living portrait of Whitefield perfection.

Elise inclined her head in a measured, precise motion, her gloved hands lightly clasped in front of her dark, high-necked dress. The candlelight glinted off the pale gold of her hair, so like her father's, and highlighted the elegant, composed angles of her face, which betrayed nothing. Regal, disciplined, unmoved.

Beside her, Louis stepped forward with barely restrained energy, a broad, winning grin spreading across his features—a blend of his father's sharp bone structure and his mother's warmer coloring.

"Father!" he called out, striding forward. His hands twitched at his sides as if fighting the urge to embrace the man.

At the opposite end, Annie curtsied with a fluid, practiced grace, her smooth, chestnut locks bouncing with the motion. Her warm hazel gaze and delicate features were a perfect echo of their mother, and she wore them with bright, blooming ease. She wasted no time in slipping forward to loop her arm through her father's, resting her head briefly against his shoulder in a display of affection the others would never dare.

"Welcome home, Father!" she chirped, her voice bright and warm. "The house has been so dreadfully dull without you. You must be exhausted! How was your journey?"

Sirius allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile to soften his otherwise stern features, briefly patting Annie's hand with his free one. "Long, as expected. The roads were foul with last week's rains, but the business was necessary. I trust everything has been managed in my absence?" He let his gaze sweep over them, the question a clear prompt for a report.

Louis straightened immediately, his expression alight with eager confidence. "Of course, sir! I personally oversaw the weekly tithes and ensured the staff maintained all operations without issue. Nothing of consequence to report." He puffed his chest slightly, then added with barely concealed eagerness, "I instructed the kitchen to prepare all your favorite dishes. They should be ready momentarily. I thought you'd appreciate a proper meal after your travels."

Annie, ever the supportive sister, nodded fervently. "Louis worked ever so hard to make sure everything was perfect for your return! He's been utterly meticulous."

Sirius exhaled through his nose, a quiet, approving sound. "Efficient. I appreciate the initiative, Louis."

Louis' shoulders squared with pride, a pleased smile finally breaking through. Annie beamed at him, basking in the reflected approval.

A footman stepped forward on silent heels to relieve Sirius of his heavy coat, while a maid retrieved the suitcases from Elias to carry to his quarters.

Louis, still buzzing with the high of his father's approval, opened his mouth to continue, "So, Father, about the northern tithes, I've—"

"Elise," Sirius interrupted, his gaze slicing past his son to land on his eldest daughter. The shift was immediate and absolute. "Join me in my study. We have matters to discuss."

Louis stiffened as if struck. The warmth in his face drained away, his excitement dying like a candle snuffed out. His fingers curled into a tight fist at his side, his jaw clenching, but he knew better than to voice a protest.

Annie, still clinging to their father's arm, merely tilted her head with a practiced, unwavering smile, though a sharp, jealous flicker passed through her hazel eyes before she buried it.

Elise inclined her head in a small, precise nod. "Yes, Father."

Annie finally released Sirius's arm and let out an artfully wistful sigh. "Father's always so busy," she lamented, tucking a loose chestnut strand behind her ear. "Not even a moment to sit and tell us about your travels." She cast Elise a fleeting, sideways glance before turning back to their father with an endearing pout. "Good thing Elise is always there to shoulder your burdens! I wish I could be just as reliable as her when I grow up."

Sirius gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "I've been putting your sister to work since she was half your age. It's never too late to start applying yourself."

For a fraction of a second, Annie's sweet smile faltered, a flash of genuine irritation breaking through before she smoothed it over, giggling as she stuck her tongue out playfully. "Oh, please. I could never be as... dedicated as her! I'd rather run around in the mud than be cooped up indoors all day."

Louis rolled his eyes so discreetly it was almost imperceptible.

Sirius didn't linger. Without another word or a backward glance, he turned and strode toward his study, Elise falling into step behind him like a silent shadow.

The doors clicked shut, sealing the two younger siblings in the suddenly cavernous and empty foyer.

The moment they were gone, Louis' composed mask shattered. He gritted his teeth, his expression darkening into a scowl. "Of course. Always her."

Annie turned to him, her face a mask of soft concern. She rested a delicate, comforting hand on his arm. "Oh, Louis, don't be upset," she murmured, her voice dripping with honeyed sympathy. "You know how Father is. His mind is always on... business."

Louis exhaled sharply, shaking off her touch as if it burned. "He barely even looked at me. What 'matters' does she have to discuss that I'm not privy to? I'm the heir. Not her."

Annie sighed dramatically, tilting her head to the side like a confused bird. "I know, it's so unfair... She just always knows how to grab his attention, doesn't she? She's so capable, so responsible, and soooo... pretty." She paused, then let out a self-deprecating little laugh, looking down at her own simple dress. "Unlike plain little me, I suppose. I could never be as strong or brilliant or as... perfectly put together as her. I'm too different from normal noble girls."

Louis scoffed, his bitterness finding a familiar target. "Don't say that. You're twice the person she is. She's just a piece of stiff wood. Thinks she's above everyone else just because she can follow an order without a single original thought. Father only uses her because she's a tool that doesn't talk back."

He then put a hand on her shoulder, his tone turning more sincere. "Unlike you. You actually bring light into this house. You make people feel... something. And honestly?" He lowered his voice. "You're much prettier than her. She's all cold and lifeless like a doll. You have... warmth."

Annie glanced up at him through her long lashes, a picture of vulnerable hope. "You really think so?"

Louis' frustration ebbed slightly, soothed by his role as the comforting older brother. He nodded firmly. "Of course. What does Elise know, anyway, other than how to obey? She has no passions, no dreams. She's just Father's instrument." His pale blue eyes, so like his sister's, narrowed with cold promise. "Father will see it one day. And when he does, he'll understand exactly why the title belongs to me."