Commander of the 1st Royal Cavalry Division
Adrien Kerval was not born to rule. Born into a minor noble house with no notable fortune, he understood very early that, within the kingdom, merit alone was never enough. One had to become indispensable. A cavalry officer in the service of the Marquis of Valombre, he distinguished himself through methodical rigor and a rare ability to anticipate decisions before they were even spoken. Where others obeyed, he understood.
He also learned a subtler truth: visible loyalty carried more weight than sincere loyalty.
When the Vergo case erupted, Kerval was not its instigator. The conspiracy came from elsewhere, fueled by Valombre’s ambition and pride. But where many would have hesitated, he saw an opportunity. The case was fragile, the accusations still incomplete. One essential element was missing: coherence.
Kerval provided it.
He oversaw the consolidation of records, validated the most credible testimonies, and discarded those likely to raise doubt. He added nothing unnecessary. He did not force falsehood. He structured it—made it seamless, unassailable. During the hearings, the evidence unfolded with implacable precision, forming a case so solid that it left no room for dispute.
He knew.
Count Aldric Vergo was not guilty.
Yet a man too principled, incapable of compromise, became a destabilizing factor in a political game that tolerated no moral rigidity.
So he chose.
Not truth.
But balance.
The verdict fell without appeal.
Vergo did not protest.
Sine did not look away.
They knew.
A slight movement passed through the assembly.
Seated at a distance, Victor Dardel observed the scene, motionless. His calm gaze acknowledged the expected outcome.
A case closed.
Order preserved.
Nothing more.
Dardel did not look at Kerval. He had no need to.
Not far from him, the Marquis of Valombre did not entirely conceal his satisfaction. His gaze, fixed on Vergo, revealed a restrained satisfaction—that of a man whose trap had just closed flawlessly.
The guards stepped forward.
A silence, heavier than any cry, settled over the chamber.
Kerval observed the scene without a word.
Everything was as it should be.
Controlled.
Necessary.
A few steps from the condemned stood two children.
Still.
Brader, fists clenched, yet unshaken.
He did not lower his eyes.
Beside him, Amelia clung to her mother’s dress, fingers tightening, refusing to let go.
Despite the chains, Sine lowered herself slightly. Her hands found those of her children.
A moment.
Nothing was said.
But her fingers tightened around theirs, briefly—almost urgently.
Her eyes, however, lifted.
Not toward the king.
Not toward the guards.
Farther.
Into the shadows.
Barely perceptible.
A silhouette.
A man standing apart, unnoticed by all.
Their gazes met.
For a fraction of a second.
Nothing changed on his face.
Yet Sine’s shoulders relaxed, almost imperceptibly. Her grip loosened slightly.
Then she lowered her eyes.
The moment passed.
As though it had never existed.
Kerval turned away.
As he was leaving, his gaze paused.
The children.
Their eyes met his.
For an instant.
Kerval stepped closer, ignoring the parents, the guards—everything else.
Only the child.
“Look carefully.”
His voice was low. Steady.
“This is how order is maintained.”
A brief silence.
“The heirs of the condemned rarely survive.”
He straightened.
“You will soon understand why.”
He resumed his stride.
Behind him, chains clattered.
After the execution of the count and Sine, the reward matched his efficiency. The king granted him the lands of Haut-Vernac, once under Vergo’s authority. He was given the title of baron, a rapid promotion within the royal cavalry, and direct access to the military council. His rise was swift. His composure, discipline, and above all his complete lack of scruples were praised.
For Kerval, the Vergo affair was neither an injustice… nor a mistake.
Only a necessity.
Now, as commander of the 1st Royal Cavalry Division, he embodies a feared mobile force, specialized in rapid breakthroughs and decisive strikes. He values efficiency over honor, results over principles. He knows the roads, the men, the weaknesses.
And above all, he never doubts.
For in his mind, one truth remains:
It is not justice that sustains a kingdom.
It is the stability imposed by those willing to defend it.
Profile
Role : Baron involved in the condemnation of Lord Aldric Vergo
MBTI : ENTJ
Race : Human
Formal, calculated, direct language with a composed and cold tone
- Decision-making
- Manipulation
- Efficiency
- Lucidity
- Composure
- Pragmatism
- Cold-bloodedness
- Arrogance
- Calculation
- Cynicism
- Contempt
- Opportunism
The value of a choice, Kerval learned in childhood.
One day, with a boy from the village, he amused himself by tormenting a farmer’s livestock. When the matter was discovered, only his companion was seen fleeing. Kerval, for his part, remained out of sight.
Confronted by his father in the boy’s presence, he did not deny it.
He explained.
He had tried to stop him. He had not succeeded.
The reasoning was simple.
Two culprits were unnecessary when one was enough.
The boy was punished.
Kerval never saw him again.
He gave it no further thought.