The Beaver King, A Cautionary Tale of Medieval Dysfunction

Little Lord Brentin was previously married to Lady Faylee, a young woman of a lesser house in a neighboring village of Frankleton. She had limited preparation for Court life. Their marriage was not a partnership, it was merely an arrangement of control. Lady Faylee was expected to perform competence she had never been taught, and due to a stubborn streak she would refuse. She would, in fact, usually steer the course of action opposite of LLB’s instruction.

StillPoint was Brentin’s first true test of responsibility and authority, and he failed it entirely. Lady Faylee struggled to even meet the simple demands of maintaining a noble household. She bore him two children, a boy and a girl. Raising them, caring for their health and welfare, as well as the family pets and maintaining the living quarters of the keep were her only tasks, and to use the would failure would be an understatement. The family would be forced to live in filth, and the other members of the Beaver King’s brood would turn the other way and felt it best to simply pretend it wasn’t happening. The ladies in waiting and staff at StillPoint would come and go quickly, as not to feel the guilt of perpetuating the situation.

The Heir Apparent interpreted this as incompetence and her subsequent withdrawal as defiance. He corrected nothing, and escalated everything.

A little over two years after her arrival at StillPoint, Lady Faylee took her leave. This took place after The Turning, so it taking the two small children, meant taking the heirs to the Beaver Throne.

This was framed by both Little Lord Brentin and the Beaver King as abandonment. Thus, LLB never pursued reconciliation, he never reflected, and he never followed.

Due to the fact Brentin’s abuse of Lady Faylee was open and public, the common assumption in the Kingdom is that:

If he were that cruel, hostile, and demeaning in public, then what he inflicted in private must have been far worse.

The Court whispers it openly. The peasants assume it, and the Lickspittles whisper it over wine that King Robert can only assume that public cruelty is the mildest form of his behavior, and behind the StillPoint walls he was much more severe, sustained, and unchecked.

This Minstrelle does not know the specifics. No one needs to. In the world of nobility and rumor, assumption is enough. Because no one knows the details, she is pitied. She is admired for leaving, and she has not publicly been defamed by the major Houses of Beaverton. However, in our Little Tyrant-to-Be’s mind, he maintains “I acted as a Noble should. If she left, that is her failure.” King Robert approves that message.

Beneficianism

This is now a time to describe to you Little Lord Brentin’s unique doctrine of Beneficianism. It is his self-declared religion. By his own definition:

• ”Anything that benefits me is right and just.”
• “Harm is justified if beneficial to self.”

Sadly, this is not satire within the Kingdom. It is how he genuinely orders his moral world.

The Principals of Beneficianism – As Practiced By Lord Brentin of Beaverton

Under this belief system:

• Truth is optional
• Law is conditional
• Harm is irrelevant, if advantageous
• Consequences are for others
• Lying is acceptable if it improves his position
• Stealing is justified if he feels owed.
• Cheating is cleverness, not wrongdoing
• Morality is not a standard, it is a tool.

Little Lord Brentin is convinced he is untouchable. This belief is reinforced by his father’s protection and a lifetime without meaningful consequences. He does not fear prosecution, nor does he respect the law. He views systems of accountability as theatrical obstacles meant for lesser people. When he is confronted with rules he assumes they will not apply to him, someone else will absorb the cost, and the issue will eventually disappear. It almost always does.

According to Baylor The Brave, Beneficianism is not Faith, its justification. His brother invokes it to silence criticism, dismiss ethical concerns, frame opposition as persecution, and elevate selfishness into principle. Therefore he does not argue morality, he declares exemption.

This Doctrine is not accidental. Brentin learned from King Robert that control of the narrative equals control of the outcome. He was taught that rules will bend for those who refuse to acknowledge them and victimhood can be claimed even when causing harm.

This Minstrelle could reason that it is simply his behavior spoken aloud.

Financial Collapse

After Lady Faylee’s departure, Little Lord Brentin responded with a lack of responsibility. He refused to pay the Keep’s staff, he neglected taxes owed on StillPoint, and he allowed to the estate to decay structurally, as well as administratively. As a result, StillPoint was remanded to its former owner, House Harris. He forfeited his horses, carriages, and winter supplies in the same manner. This was not misfortune, as that can happen to the best people in poor circumstances, this was pure neglect and dereliction of duty, for LLB had the funds to continue. He chose instead to frequent the Pleasure Houses, taverns, and Hovels of Ill Repute instead.

Return to Beaverton

Little Lord Brentin then returned to the security of the Beaver King and the Log Cabin Castle. He was diminished, but otherwise unashamed. This outcome removed all adult responsibility from his life and returned him to a system that protected his behavior. Most of all, it pleased King Robert to have him in his close proximity once again.

The Beaver King was smug with accomplishment at the Prince’s return. For he did not rescue Brentin, he engineered the collapse, reinforcing Brentin’s dependence and ensuring his return. King Robert did not attack the marriage openly. That would have required courage. Instead, he entered it sideways, under the guise of concern, guidance, and paternal duty—roles he performs only when they benefit him.

He positioned himself as Brentin’s confidant, speaking to him privately and often. Never urgent. Never direct. Always reasonable. He framed Faylee as fragile, complicated, and ultimately inconvenient—not unkindly, but persistently. Each comment was small enough to dismiss, but together they formed a steady erosion of trust.

To Faylee, he did something different.

He offered sympathy.

He listened to her emotions without correcting them, then subtly redirected them. He encouraged distance under the pretense of “space.” He spoke of Brentin’s obligations to Beaverton as if they were unavoidable facts, not choices. He never told her to leave—but he made staying feel lonely, temporary, and futile.

The key was timing.

Whenever Faylee and Brentin moved toward understanding, Robert inserted doubt. Whenever they disagreed, he reinforced the disagreement by validating each side separately—ensuring resolution never quite arrived. He fed Brentin the idea that returning home was inevitable. He fed Faylee the sense that she was already being left behind.

Robert’s true goal was never reconciliation or protection.

It was retrieval.

Brentin had strayed too far from Beaverton, too far from usefulness. The marriage slowed him, grounded him, and—worse—gave him a life that did not revolve around his father. That could not be allowed to continue.

So Robert applied pressure until the marriage collapsed under its own weight.

When the divorce came, he did not celebrate publicly. He simply received Brentin back as if the outcome had always been obvious, and as if Faylee’s loss of title were an administrative necessity rather than a personal victory.

Faylee was not discarded loudly.

She was made removable.

And when she left—with only what she could push toward Frankleton—The Beaver King never followed, never checked, and never spoke her name again.

Which, in the end, was exactly how she knew it had been deliberate.

So here we are in present day. Brentin is under his Father’s roof and his moved in his newest intended, Drucelia, into the Log Cabin Castle. This is not progression. It is regression with a new participant. Drucelia inherits the proximity to power and the instability of our Heir Apparent, the protection of the King, and the silence of the Queen.

Thus, the patten remains in effect.