In their silence, before either one had the opportunity to speak up, a loud knocking startled them. The person outside pounded the door without a second thought, so unlike the respect Jonas was so used to seeing from everyone around him. 

 

Frezar got up from his seat, his limbs creaking. “I will see who it is.”

 

With his shoulders slumped, the old butler walked towards the door. He paused right before his hands touched the knob, with a deep sigh he straightened his back and wiped away the tears he had in his eyes. Wearing an impassive face, he swung the heavy door open without a single complaint to its weight. 

 

“How dares interrupt the Young Masters rest?” 

 

His voice was deeper and far more imposing. It had shivers running down Jonas’s back. 

 

“Camidor, Sir Frezar.” A soldier then, greeting like this were quite common in the empire. It showed a certain level of respect towards authority most other demographics lacked. 

 

“Camidor.”

 

“Gravious Hadin has requested I escort the Young Master towards his office. It is of the essence we reach the destination in a timely manner.”

 

“Duke Hadin?” Frezar looked over his shoulder at Jonas. “Give us a few moments to freshen him up and dress him in the appropriate dress.”

 

Without wasting a moment, Frezar hurried towards a smaller door, he entered and put on the water. A few whispered words later, he came out and fast-walked towards a long closet. Grabbing a black robe, pants, and shirt, he placed them folded on the bed near Jonas. 

 

“Hurry, Young Master. It is time to meet your father. Let's get you to take a bath, wear your clothes, and put fragrant smelling oils.” Saying this, Frezar turned to get the oils ready. 

 

“Frezar,” Jonas called, stopping him in his tracks. “W-will I be executed?” His voice was embarrassingly high pitched.

 

The old butler turned back with his staple gentle smile. “No, Young Master. You are deeply connected to the royal family to be executed. At worst, you’d be sent to a frontier town by yourself. At best, a frontier city of renown with a large honor guard to keep any greedy idiots in check.”

 

Jonas let out a long breath he didn’t know he held. He put his hopes on Frezar’s words, the old man knew more than any man had the right too. 

 

“Alright, help me clean myself up.”

 

As he got up, a certain distant feeling of indignation at others cleaning him cropped up in his mind. Might have something to do with his weird nightmares. He quickly ignored the feeling and did his best to prepare himself for his father. A figure he met once every few months. 

 

---

 

Jonas stood in front of the closed door to his father’s office. He had been standing there for almost half an hour without a single soul showing themselves. Even the soldier that had escorted him here quickly left after they made it to their destination. 

 

He kept on pulling on the cuffs of his robe even though they fit perfectly. The family tailor was skilled at his trade, only second to the royal tailor. 

 

Jonas gulped as he felt light-headed. His stomach cramped and his fingers felt oddly cold. The longer his wait continued, the worse his anxiety got. He knew in a few moments, his hands would start to shake, just like how they trembled as he held the knife so she wouldn’t bleed out. 

 

His younger brother stabbed her without a shred of mercy. Those cold and dead eyes, absent the warmth Jonas was so used to seeing in his brother, caused him to shake every time he remembered. 

 

They were of someone used to killing. Used to taking life without a second thought.

 

Unable to stop himself, his hands began to shake and his breathing became ragged. As he stood there, that feeling of loneliness he wished to escape from only increased. He was alone in this dark hallway, with no one to stand by his side. No family to comfort him, no servants who had worshipped him and sworn to stay by his side, no friends in his time of need. 

 

There was no one. 

 

Just as he was about to fall into this hellhole, his father’s powerful voice boom even through the door. 

 

“Enter!”

 

Jonas jumped in his spot, he hesitated for a moment before reaching out towards the doorknob. With a twist, the door cracked open letting light into the hallway. Without showing any emotion, Jonas stepped in, though he made sure to hide his hands behind his back. 

 

They still shook in fear.

 

“Father,” he greeted as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

 

Sitting hunched over a massive desk was an even larger man. With wide shoulders and impressive height, he was the epitome of the image a general would look like. His salt and pepper colored hair and beard were nicely combed, but a few stands stood out from the rest. It showed how much stress the man had been going through for the past few days after the incident. 

 

“Jonas,” his father responded. His voice carried very little kindness and familiarity in them. 

 

“You called for me?”

 

“Enough of the games. You will be sent away three days hence on exile. Your crimes have been covered as an attack on the manor with the daughter of Marquis Juvi as an unfortunate casualty in the process. You will be sent to the city of Aidan…”

 

“Where?” Aidan? Where in the world was that?

 

“That's the point, Jonas. Few people remember the Empire owns land on the Orcish subcontinent. And fewer even know how to get anything there and back.”

 

Duke Hadin opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of letters, it seemed like five of them. He slapped them onto the desk with a snarl. 

 

“The royal blood that runs in your veins saved you from the executioner's axe. And worse, it gave you an entire principality. An impoverished, bandit filled, and weak principality, but one nonetheless. These letters are the royal commandments to your new position demanding the allegiance of the nobles, army, and church on the threat of death.”

 

A silence descended as the duke looked away gritting his teeth. His jaw flexed like he was doing his best to contain his violence. But that quickly transitioned into disappointment. 

 

“You were so talented. The next heir to everything I had built from the ground up. I brought you the best of scholars, swordmasters, spearmaster, archery masters, tactical geniuses, strategists. Taught you the ways of war and every tiny detail in between. What were you lacking to become so deprived of a soul? So cruel and evil to kill in cold blood? You had everything anyone could have wished for! What were you missing?!”

 

Unable to hold the emotions any longer, Jonas had tears running down his impassive face. His hands held each other tightly as his mouth moved by itself before he could stop it. 

 

“A father.”

 

The duke reeled back like he had been physically hit. 

 

“A father that would have shown up to my eighteenth birthday and my entrance into high society. A father that would have held me as I cried from the pain in my soul. A father to stave away the loneliness that haunted me. Someone to believe in me...at the very least, you could have brought in a mage to prove my innocence and my claim, but you didn’t. Instead, you cursed me, then labeled me a liar!” 

 

By the end, Jonas was screaming at the top of his lungs, his shaking hands were by his side holding tightly to his robes. 

 

“You’ve neglected me ever since I was a child and now…” Jonas looked his father in the eyes, a certain broken look in his own. “Now you are abandoning me.” 

 

He shook his head as he let the tears flow freely. Unwilling to stop himself, he turned around and ran out of the room leaving his father by himself in stunned silence.