Leonard grew up wanting for nothing. Why should he want for anything? He was the only son of the Earl of Hollyworth, one of the largest Earldoms in the land of Orbury. Orbury was a thriving nation, and Hollyworth was the most prosperous part of it, with fertile farms and dense forests, as well as a winding coastline that served up bountiful catches of fish and other fruits of the sea. The Earl and his family benefited greatly from the wealth of Hollyworth, which meant that Leonard had everything he could ever want.

From as early as Leonard could remember, he could eat all he desired. Succulent meats, stewed legumes, the freshest fish in the land, and exotic treats from faraway realms. And the desserts! Leonard loved feasting on the delightful sweets that the chefs would conjure up. French cream puffs were his favorite, he loved nothing more than biting into a gigantic profiterole and letting the pale honeyed cream gently ooze out over his fingers. He would then lick the sweet cream from his fingers, one by one, savoring every drop.

Toys, too, were in easy supply for Leonard. Tin soldiers, model trains, even miniature swords made from real steel became his playthings. Leonard's toys would often break, in his youthful exuberance, but he soon learned not to care. Why should he? There would always be new things to play with.

Leonard and his family rarely ventured outside their palace. When they did, it was always in a lengthy procession, with the Earl and his family seated in an open-top carriage, where they could wave to the commoners on either side of the road. Sometimes the carriage's wheels would encounter puddles of water or mud, which would splash up into the faces of the people. Leonard always found that hilarious. "Look, look," he would cry, tugging at his mother's embroidered sleeve, "their faces are black now!"

Alas, it was not to last. The peasants grew weary of watching the nobility grow fat upon the labors of the common people, they grew tired of standing by the roadside while the nobles' carriages drenched them in filthy mud. Waves of revolution swept through the land, and soon the King was overthrown. The leader of the revolution was a farmer named Wendell, a coarse, brutish and cruel man, fueled by his sense of injustice towards the hierarchy of the land. With the King deposed, Wendell led his revolutionary army from castle to castle, forcibly ejecting or executing each noble one by one.

Wendell's mob arrived at Hollyworth the day after Leonard's fifteenth birthday. They stormed the front gates, easily overwhelming the guards, and took a battering ram to the opulent oak doors of the palace. Soon, the mob broke through, and dragged the Earl, his wife, and Leonard into the massive dining hall of the palace. There Wendell sat, in the chair at the head of the long table, the seat originally reserved for the Earl, and munched idly on the midday meal that had been set out for the family before the mob arrived. The throng of commoners forced the Earl and his family to their knees in front of Wendell's chair.

"Well well well, what do we have here? The Earl of Hollyworth," Wendell said with a smirk, "D'you know we met once? Aye, it was last winter. You drove by me in your beautiful carriage one fine morning. You didn't even notice, did you? You didn't even notice how your wheels covered me in mud and pig shit, covered my face in filth and grime, did you?"

"I... I didn't mean..." The Earl stammered.

Wendell silenced the Earl with a kick to his gut, "Shut up. I'm not finished. I don't mind being covered in mud and shit. That's how I earn my place in this world, by working the land, like honest folk do. Mud and shit? That's what makes food grow, 'innit? But y'know what? Your boy here, your pretty little pale-faced son here, d'you know what he said? Did you hear him? Do you even remember? He said my face is black now. And he laughed at me. He laughed at me for having the gall to be covered by the mud your carriage kicked up. Now that, my good Earl, is something I cannot abide."

Wendell stood up menacingly from his chair, then continued, "Now, I'd say this is a case of poor parenting. Your son was just a boy, 'innit? He didn't know better. So I blame you. I blame you for raising this little shit of a son, one who treats other people like dirt and laughs at them. I blame you, and now you're going to pay the price."

Wendell gestured at a man in the crowd, one who held a massive sword in his hands. A flash of steel, and the Earl's head fell to the floor. Leonard and his mother shrieked in shock and horror. The mob drowned them out with their triumphant roar. The Earl's wife rushed to her husband's body, only to be met by the man's sword. Soon her headless corpse joined the Earl's, to the crowd's delight.

When the crowd's cheers died down, Wendell then turned to Leonard. "Well boy, looks like you're the Earl now, aren't you? You've inherited your father's title, and castle, and land... except, no, you've inherited nothing." Wendell spat in Leonard's direction, then grabbed the boy by his hair. With overwhelming strength, Wendell dragged Leonard to the dining hall's fireplace, which still smoldered with glowing coals. He pressed the young Earl's face into the red-hot hearth. Leonard's scream of agony was muffled by the ash and the hiss from his burning face. "How's that, now, boy? Whose face is black now, huh? You or me? You or me?"

Wendell released Leonard's hair, and the whimpering boy fell to the floor, clutching his horrifically marked face. His skin, which had previously been as white and smooth as porcelain, was now covered in angry red blisters peeking through a caked layer of ash and soot. "Now, here's what's going to happen, boy. You're going to live. You're going to become the lowest of the low, the utter dregs of society. You'll have no home, no family, no nothing. You'll have to beg for your food, and sleep on the street, and one day when your miserable existence is finally snuffed out, your carcass will be left to feed the dogs and rats."

The crowd lifted Leonard to his feet and dragged him out to the street. With a mighty shove, they tossed him into the dirt outside. Wendell grabbed a cream puff from the dining table, then followed them outside. He threw the puff at Leonard's head, where it struck with a muffled crunch. "Here you go, boy. Don't say I'm not merciful now. I let you live, and then I let you have one last cream puff. You like cream puffs, right? I heard you do. Well, one last treat for you, 'innit?"

And so ends the tale of Leonard, Earl of Hollyworth. He spent the rest of his days a pauper on the streets, with his mind broken from his parents' murders, from his face becoming burned and scarred, and from losing everything in one fell swoop. He never ate the puff, for reasons unknown. Maybe it was because his mind was too far gone for him to eat it. Maybe because it represented one last reminder of his home and family, and of happier days. But long after the cream puff had rotted away into nothing, Leonard could still be seen curled up in the filthy streets, cradling his hands to his chest, as if he still held the tasty dessert, and muttering sadly to passersby...

"Look at this puff, isn't it sweet? Wouldn't you think my complexion's a treat? Wouldn't you think I'm the Earl... the Earl who has... everything..."