King Ambrose: The Rise of the Bastard Son

01: The Mistreated Son

"You piece of shit," muttered my older brother as he landed a punch on my right cheek. I stumbled and fell on the floor and winced in pain at the impact. At 15 years old, Darion is already bulky. Perhaps all those times he practiced football made him like that.

"Why are you always so useless, Kingsley?" said my other half-brother, Henry. He's 13 and he was just standing behind his brother as he was also looking at me, snickering.

At 10 years old, I was a small boy. That is why it is so easy for them to pick on me. Other than that, they know I am not going to tell on them to our father. Father never took my side.

"You said you wanted juice. I gave you juice. What's the matter with it?" I asked as I helped myself to stand up. The only piece of trousers I own has become dirty. I would have to wash it tonight and hope it dries for tomorrow.

"Orange juice, you freak. This isn't orange juice." Darion made an emphasis on his annoyance by throwing the juice right into my face. The juice dripped into my shirt. Great. Now, I have to wash my shirt too.

"You could have told me you wanted orange juice—"

I wasn't able to continue what I was going to say when Darion crossed the distance between us and grabbed me by my collar. With our height difference, he easily managed to lift me. My toes were barely touching the ground. His face was inches against mine and I could have sworn I saw his nose fuming in rage as he was looking at me. As if he's trying to burn me with that glare of his.

"You're learning to talk back now, Kingsley? Have you forgotten that one word from us, father could immediately send you to sleep on the streets?"

Henry snickered behind him. "Considering you're not our real brother, that wouldn't be so hard."

"That bitch of a woman screwed another man and had you. So you better be careful," Darion stared me down for almost a minute before he pushed me to let me go.

"That woman you just called bitch is your mother too, Darion."

But he just scoffed and gave me a look that says he doesn't give a shit. "She betrayed this family by having you. She betrayed us. We don't have a mother. She's dead, anyway."

Everything happened too fast. The next moment I was standing an arm's length away from him and the next, I was in front of him, ready to throw a punch. But being the weak child that I was, he managed to stop my punch in midair. He looked surprised I got the guts to raise a hand on him but then the mocking look on his face returned and I before I knew it, I was back on the ground. This time, it was not only the juice that dirtied my shirt. It was the dirt on the ground as I completely laid on my back.

As if he wasn't contented yet, he rained kicks on my stomach and my legs before Henry gets the last kick on my face.

"Serves you right," they said and then left me there all alone, silently crying.

It was something that regularly happened. It was like a past-time for them—making me suffer or humiliating me for whatever reason they could find. Somehow, getting used to it became easier. Avoiding them was easier too. With a large mansion, I was sleeping in the servant's quarters, closer to the back door of the kitchen so I could easily go and chop firewood so they could use something on their fireplace. They rarely saw me when we got older. They mostly spend most of their time at some prestigious private school while I have to go to the nearest school with free tuition.

I thought I could go on like that. I would have gone on like that. But then one day, I woke up from my cot and found my father—my dead mother's husband—knocking on my door.

He handed me a box and before I could ask what it was, he went on, "Wear that tonight. We're meeting important visitors." And then he walked away.

I spent the whole day wondering what could it be. As much as I don't want to meet his important guests, I didn't really have a choice. If Darion and Henry have bad tempers, their father is so much worse.

So I wore an expensive suit and met them at the family dinner. Everyone was already there. My brothers, at eighteen, looked like fine gentlemen dressed in the same expensive suit I was wearing but I would bet theirs would be several times more expensive than mine. Maybe what I'm wearing now is something Henry grew out of. Not that I mind. It's not every day that I get to wear fancy clothes. What I don't like is the fact that I have to attend this meeting and pretend I am close to them.

Darion and Henry scanned me from head to toe and there was no hiding that faint snicker on their faces. I sat next to Henry on their father's left side.

"How was school today, Kingsley?" father asked and I almost scoffed. Is he practicing how he's going to talk to me later when the guests arrive? I couldn't help but wonder who these guests are.

I don't want to be deemed disrespectful so I answered, "Nothing special." 

"Father," he said, much to my surprise. He placed his wine glass down before looking again at me. "When the guests arrive, call me father." 

That was new. He never let me call him father before because I am not his son. According to him, I was the son of my traitorous mother from an unknown man. When I looked at my siblings, they did not say anything to contradict their father when. Usually, they would both protest whenever I get to have the same privilege as they do. But now, they are unusually subtle with their snickering. 

"I bet he's on cloud nine right now," Darion started and I wasn't even surprised anymore. I knew they would never miss a chance to insult me. "It's not every day he gets to wear this fancy suit and call you a father, Father." 

Henry covered his mouth to laugh. 

"Enough, you two," said their father and gave them sharp glances. What is going on? Is this man taking my side against his two sons? 

As much as I wanted to be delighted about it, I couldn't. I feel like there is something wrong. Father--Gideon Olivieri--never acted like this. He never took my side and he never talked to me without yelling. 

"May I ask what is going on?" I dared to say as I was looking at him. His sharp features were even made sharper with the lighting in the dining hall. And he was looking at me as though he was trying to cut me with his stare. 

Then he said, "From now on, you will be carrying the name my last name. You are now Kingsley Olivieri."

My eyes widened in surprise. I never used the name Olivieri because I am not one. My brothers had the same reaction. They looked at father in utter shock.

"F-Father, what are you talking about?" asked Darion. I wanted to ask the same question too but I was too stunned. 

"Why the sudden decision, Father? What's the matter?" added Henry. 

But their father only glared at them--the same kind of glare I usually get from him that would often freeze me on my feet. 

"I'm saying that I am making Kingsley my son," he said with lethal calm.

"But...but why? You said he could call you father. That should be enough--"

"Shut your mouth, Darion," he said and in an instant, Darion shut his mouth. "Do you think I wouldn't know what you did at school? What you have been doing? Do you know what shame you put me into when your principal called me in the middle of a meeting and said you've been caught with drugs on your locker?" 

Darion paled as he was looking at his father. I swallowed hard. Then he turned to look at his other son, Henry. "And you. You've been idolizing this idiotic brother of yours. You assaulted your girl classmate?"

Their father let out an exasperated sigh and looked at me. I started to feel worried.

"Right now, the only choice I have is Kingsley."

I don't know what he was trying to say but whatever it was, Darion and Henry doesn't look happy.

"What do you mean, Father? I am your eldest son. I should be the first choice. And Kingsley is not even your son!"

"Darion's right, Father. Kingsley doesn't know—"

Their father slammed his fist on the table, silencing the both of them.

"You think you two can do it? You cant even get yourselves together and you expect you can do marriage?"

My mouth went dry with his statement. What did he say? Marriage? What does he mean by that?

Darion and Henry seem to have gotten what their father is trying to say. Darion, in particular, looked as if he couldn't seem to believe what his father said.

"Marriage? Kingsley's going to marry?"

This time, my jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry—sir—f-father." I cleared my throat, still not used to what he wanted me to call him. "What do you mean?"

A muscle of his jaw clenched. He took one sip from his wine glass before he set it down and said, "You are to marry de la Fontaine's only daughter. That's what I mean."