2025-02-24 16:55:31When General Aziel delivers the news, everything starts moving too fast, like a film on fast-forward. My mind goes blank, unable to process what happens next. My mother and younger brother burst into tears. My sister accuses General Aziel of lying. And Demario and Zenthio—I'm not sure. But I know they’re smiling as if they can’t believe things are unfolding exactly the way they wanted.
"I grieve just as much as you do," General Aziel finally says. His voice is heavy with sorrow, enough to quiet the whole room. "Marquess Alessio and I have known each other since our days at the magic academy." He pauses for a moment before continuing, "But my knights found his body. And I know he—Marquess Alessio—would want to return to his family. His coffin will arrive today, My Ladyship. I hope you will arrange a proper funeral for him." My mother stays silent. I know it's too much to ask of her. No woman wants to hold a funeral for the man she loves. But Lavinia steps forward, wrapping an arm around her. "We will," she says firmly. "I just hope his coffin arrives before noon." The General nods. "Very well. Then, I’ll take my leave, My Ladyship." "General," I stop him before he can go. "Did you find any hound fur on my father’s body?" There’s a long silence before he finally asks, "Why does that matter, Lord Helio?" I hesitate. But if I don’t say it now, proving what Zenthio and Demario did will only get harder. "Because I believe my father was murdered," I say. "Nyx—" "Nyx is a myth," Zenthio snaps. "Are you seriously still going on about that?" "You, Demario, and Bernard killed him!" I shoot back. Demario sighs, shaking his head in mock pity. "Forgive him, General," he says with a smirk. "Our poor half-brother has always been a little… unwell. He’s been like this since we were kids." "I'm blind, Demario. That doesn’t mean I’m insane!" General Aziel clears his throat. "It’s alright. Nyx is just an old legend, Lord Helio," he says. "No one has ever proven it exists. But if you wish, we will investigate Marquess Alessio’s death further. See you at the funeral." ⚔️ The funeral is as grand as it can be on such short notice. The mansion is packed with people—villagers, my father’s relatives, nobles, and his old friends from the magic academy. But I stay in the library, curled up in my chair, unable to believe any of this is real. For as long as I can remember, my father has been a hero to this kingdom. A powerful mage, a brilliant strategist, always the key to every battle. But I’m not sure if he was ever a good father. He was barely home. There was a time when Zenthio missed him so much he’d refuse to eat if our father didn’t come back for his birthday. Then there was a time when he stopped hoping. Stopped caring. Whether our father was there or not didn’t matter anymore. And now, I guess, there’s a time when Zenthio has finally given up completely—choosing hatred over disappointment. Deciding the world is better off without our father. I understand him. But forgiving him is another story. "Lord Helio!" I reach for my white cane and stand. The voice is male. Someone I don’t recognize. "I’m in the library," I call out. "Who is it?" The door creaks open. I hear two sets of footsteps, the clank of armor. "Thank the gods you’re here, My Lord," one of them says. "General Aziel requests your presence in the hall for the reading of the will. Will you come with us?" I shake my head. "No need. I already know what it says," I mutter. Zenthio will inherit the title of Marquess. He’ll throw me, my mother, and my little brother out. I'd rather spend my time mourning while I still can. The knights hesitate. I can hear it in the way they shift uncomfortably. "But, My Lord," the other knight says carefully, "General Aziel specifically asked that you be there." Of course, he did. That’s just like General Aziel—he never leaves anyone behind. So, I allow one of them to take my arm and guide me to the hall. As we walk through the cool corridors, spring air drifting through the windows, I get lost in thought. Until— Someone crashes into me. I stumble, hearing the sharp clatter of armor, followed by a gasp of pain. Lavinia. "Oh, gods," she groans. "I’m so sorry, Helio. Are you okay?" "I’m fine," I say quickly. She presses my white cane into my hand, and I grip it tightly. I catch the faint scent of sweat and iron on her—almost masked by her usual perfume, a mix of flowers and vanilla. "Lavinia, were you just training with a sword?" I ask. "What? No!" She laughs, but it sounds forced. "I was in the back garden, waiting for the guests to leave. You know Father never liked me training with swords." I hear the rustle of her dress as she stands and starts walking. I rise to my feet as well. "Lavinia?" I call. She hums in response. I hesitate, then say, "No one can stop you from training if that’s what you really want. Do whatever you want." She chuckles. "You’re acting weird today, Helio," she says. "I shouldn’t be laughing, not today, but—well. Sorry, Father. You gave me a ridiculous little brother. Come on, let’s go." ⚔️ "I hope you’ll leave my house after this, Cecil," Zenthio murmurs to my mother when I join them in the hall. "Zenthio," my mother whispers back, her voice pleading. "You can throw me out, but Helio and Tavvy—" "Stop, Mother," I cut in. "Don’t beg for us. If you’re leaving, I’m leaving too." Demario chuckles beside me, clearly entertained. He’s about to say something, but General Aziel clears his throat, commanding silence. "Now that Marquess Alessio’s family is here, I will read the will he entrusted to me yesterday." "Yesterday?" Zenthio and I ask at the same time. "Marquess Alessio and I were about to go to war. It’s common practice for us to exchange wills beforehand," General Aziel says, his patience thinning. "Now, let’s begin." He starts reading. "My dear family. If you are hearing this, it means I am no longer in this world, and I can no longer prevent this sorrowful moment from happening. But even though I am gone, I want you to know—I will always be with you. I have always wanted to protect this family in ways you may not expect. And so, though my final decision may disappoint you, I made it for your sake as well. I leave my title and my entire fortune to my third son, Helio Hawthorn."
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Pain blossoms across my jaw before I even register the movement. The impact snaps my head to the side, my ears ringing, the taste of iron blooming across my tongue. I stagger but do not fall. My grip tightens around my cane, steadying myself. My breath hitches for a moment before evening out, but the pain lingers—a dull, throbbing ache where Hale’s fist connected. He hit me. Hale hit me. I exhale slowly, tilting my head back toward him. “Are you finished?” My voice is level, but there is a coldness beneath it. Hale stands rigid, his chest rising and falling sharply. His fist is still clenched, his knuckles white. His entire body is wound tight, as if he’s barely holding himself together. “No,” he growls. “Not even close.” I swipe my thumb against my lip, smearing the blood there. “So that’s how we’re handling disagreements now?” Hale scoffs, his face twisted in frustration. “I don’t know how else to get through to you.” He takes a step forward, his eyes burning. “You weren’t liste