Back then, things were simpler. I didn’t know what my family was up to—everything seemed fine. How could I have been so blind?

  “Master Ralph, wake up. Breakfast is ready, and your father wants to speak with you.”

  Ralph opened his eyes to find his maid, Jade, leaning over him, gently shaking him. His room was simple, with his bed placed in the center. For a 16-year-old, it was basic—a sword rack in one corner, a writing desk in the other. The curtains flickered lightly in the breeze that slipped through the window.

  “What is it, Jade? Does my father need me? What’s going on?”

  “It’s midday. Your father wants to speak with you later today, so you need to wake up now.”

  “Alright, alright. Tell Father I’ll see him after breakfast.” Ralph rubbed his eyes.

  “As you wish, sir. Here is your breakfast.”

  Jade set a small wooden table on Ralph’s lap. The usual: freshly baked bread, freshly squeezed orange juice, and eggs on the side.

  “Thank you, Jade. You can go now.”

  “As you command.” She bowed before leaving, closing the door behind her.

  Ralph’s mind wandered as he ate. “What does Father want? There was some sort of commotion earlier outside the house. Maybe he wants to discuss what he saw”.

  He dressed in his usual formal attire—a dark purple jacket and gray pants, each marked with the family insignia: a dagger piercing a crow’s claw. Before leaving, he glanced at a framed picture on his desk—a red-haired woman lying in bed, holding a small baby, smiling softly.

  “Good morning, Mom. I’ll be back soon.”

  As Ralph stepped out of his room, Jade was waiting outside for him.

  “Jade, what are you still doing here?”

  “Your father asked me to bring you to him as soon as you left your room. Please follow me, Master Ralph.”

  Ralph nodded. As they walked through the Crowswell house, the usual calm atmosphere seemed tense. Maids and subordinates moved with frantic energy, as if something important was about to happen.

  “Jade, what’s going on today? Another party?”

  “I don’t know. Your father only requested a feast be prepared.”

  They soon reached a door leading to the castle’s underground. Jade stopped just before it.

  “I can’t go any further. Lord Edwin’s orders. Just go down the stairs. Lord Edwin and Lady Maren are waiting.”

  “Maren? What’s she doing here too?”

  “I don’t know, Master Ralph.”

  Jade’s expression had changed—there was something uneasy about her now. Ralph turned to go downstairs, but before he could take another step, Jade tugged at his shoulder.

  “Jade? What’s wrong? You’re acting strange.”

  “Nothing, Master Ralph. Just... be careful, okay?” She tried to smile, but it was weak and didn’t reach her eyes. She bowed as Ralph continued down the stairs.

  The magic torches flickered out as he descended. The further he went, the more he heard the faint echo of someone crying.

  “Please... please, I didn’t see anything...”

  “Oh, now you didn’t see anything, did you? Did you hear that, Lord Edwin? He said he didn’t see anything! HAHA!”

  “Merc, calm down. I don’t want this man dead yet.”

  Ralph peeked around the corner, witnessing a scene that stopped him dead in his tracks: his father and sister standing in front of a young man, chained to a chair. The man was bloodied, bruised—marks of whipping on his back. This wasn’t just an interrogation. This was an execution.

  “Father… what…”

  Lord Edwin spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Ralph, my son.”

  Without thinking, Ralph ran past his father, standing between the mercenary and the man. As he got closer, he realized the prisoner was not a man at all. This kid... he couldn’t be much older than Ralph himself. The terror in his eyes hit him like a punch.

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  What could this person have endured?

  “You little bastard!” The mercenary pulled his arm back, ready to strike Ralph.

  “That’s enough!” Lord Edwin’s voice was calm but authoritative. “Lower your fist, Merc. Unless you want to be next.”

  The mercenary shot Ralph a venomous glare before leaving through the same door.

  “Are you okay? What have they done to you? What did you do?”

  “My name is Feld. Listen... you need to know this. Edwin isn’t what he seems. Your family… they’re—”

  Before he could continue, Lady Maren kicked Feld’s jaw, knocking him sideways in the chair with a look of disgust on her face while looking down at him. “That’s enough!” She looked at Ralph. “And you, Ralph... what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Maren, this isn’t you!” My sister, she wouldn’t do this. She always was nice to me and the maids, thought Ralph.

  “Father... this man is evil, right?” He said with a lump in his throat.

  Lord Edwin raised a hand, his voice unnervingly calm. “Calm down, Ralph. I called you here for this reason. It’s time you learn where our family’s power comes from.”

  “Father, I don’t understand.” Disbelief and shock painted Ralph’s face.

  “No, son. This man isn’t evil. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, he pays the price.” Lord Edwin smiled coldly. “This is how we gain power—through fear. By commanding with ruthlessness, with violence. This man saw one of our operations. He knows too much, so we have to silence him. You understand, don’t you? After all, you’re a Crowswell. It’s in your blood.”

  “Did Mother know about this? How long has this been going on? Mom wouldn’t approve of this!”

  Lord Edwin’s smile faded. “Yes, your mother wouldn’t approve. That’s why she had to be... moved to the sidelines.”

  Ralph’s eyes widened, rage boiling inside him.

  “You bastard!” He screamed, launching a punch at his father.

  Lord Edwin blocked the punch effortlessly, Ralph then attempted to axe-kick his father, raising his feet fair above his head, but before he could bring it down, Lord Edwin performed a spinning kick that swiftly landed on Ralph's chest.

  "Ghh..." Ralph gasped, the sharp pain in his chest stealing his breath. The kick sent him crashing against the shelf in the corner of the room, the wood splintering as he crumpled to the floor. His body felt heavy, his chest tightening painfully. Air. He needed air, but the world around him seemed to blur as his arms tingled and his vision swam. Every instinct screamed to run, to flee, but his body wouldn’t respond.

  "Dad… I... I can’t breathe." His voice was strangled, the words barely escaping his lips as he coughed, struggling to fill his lungs with anything resembling air.

  Lord Edwin’s voice was disturbingly calm. "Stop this petty squabble. I merely knocked the wind out of you." Lord Edwin tossed a set of heavy iron keys to Ralph. “Lock the kid up in the prison below. Don’t let him escape. Or he’ll suffer worse than death.”

  Ralph’s vision faded to black.

  "Do you think you overdid it?"

  "No. He has to learn. If he doesn’t accept it, I’ll force it on him."

  As Ralph's vision faded, the screech of a chair dragging across the floor echoed through the room.

  "Come on, wake up! I said, WAKE UP!” A kick hit the shelf behind him, jolting him back to consciousness.

  Groggily, his eyes fluttered open with the stench of blood and iron burning his nose.

  "Father?" His voice was thick, barely more than a whisper.

  His vision slowly cleared, revealing the man still tied to the chair, eyes pleading.

  "Get up! You need to untie me... You’re not like them, right? You wouldn’t have gotten in the way if you were."

  "What do you mean?" He shook his head in confusion, his voice cracking. "I can’t... Father has a reason for this, I know he does..."

  "Reason?" A bitter laugh followed. "You really think this is about reason? I have a family, you know..."

  The words stung, but there was something else in them—something that made him hesitate.

  "Hey, you don’t need to talk to me like that. I’m just..."

  "Just what? You nobles, you're all the same. You’re just like your father!"

  The words cut deeper than expected. His breath caught in his throat as his emotions tangled.

  "I am not my father!" His voice shook with the force of the denial. He tried to stand firm, but a knot tightened in his chest. "I don’t know what he meant by moving Mom to the sidelines, but if he…" His words broke as the weight of it all crashed down. Tears welled up, and his breath hitched. "I can’t... I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry. You have to decide. Either I take you down there, or the other man does."

  Wide-eyed, the man shook his head. "No... please..."

  "Later. I’ll come back, okay? Just don’t resist. I’m not... I’m not in a place to help right now."

  "Can you... can you make sure my family’s okay? Please, don’t let them get to them."

  He glanced at the man with pity in his eyes, his voice soft but firm. "I’ll do what I can. Just... get in the cell."

  With a swift motion, he grabbed a nearby knife and cut the man's restraints. Leading him down another flight of stairs, the air grew damp and heavy, the stone walls covered in moss, and the floor slick with water.

  At the bottom, an iron-barred cell stood, stark and empty save for a small bucket and a rusted iron bed. The smell of age and mildew filled the space.

  "Get in. I’ll try to bring you something later. I’ll be back if I can."

  The man hesitated, eyes flicking between him and the cell. With a resigned sigh, he stepped in. The gate slammed shut, the sound reverberating in the dank air.

  As he turned to leave, a hand grasped at his jacket, leaving a bloody stain on it.

  "My family... please. Talk to them." The words were barely a whisper, but the desperation was palpable. The hand fell away as the man let go, watching him go.

  As Ralph came back into the house, Jade was waiting for him. “Master Ralph, I’m sorry,” she said with pain in her voice.