Chapter Forty Four

"You are a Wentworth. Our enemies must not catch wind of this, lest they try to turn you against your real family."

The powerfully built back was all Moriarty could stare at, his father never talked to him face to face, he never saw a reason to. And Moriarty had been the best at practically everything. But, there was no acknowledgement. In his father's words, "That much is expected from a Wentworth."

And so, the first spark of the rebellion festered in his heart, and Moriarty knew that his father would never see him as more than a tool.

And Moriarty just wanted his father to call him by name.

After that, he started sneaking out in the night, setting fire to things. The flames spoke to him, they told him of a world he could rule. They told him he could change everything.

He believed them.

At first, he went alone. Setting fires to little things like pig pens, a patch of grass, etc. Bellamy still lived in an era of aristocracy, where merchants ruled the land.

So, he set fires to bar