Birthright

Chapter 1: The Sun Was Laid To Rest (How Dull The World Became)

It was raining.

Cale stared blankly at the crying sky above him, uncaring if the raindrops hit his eyes and made them sting or not.

How dull.

The world had lost its colors after his most precious person died. It had been raining like this back then, right? Cale will always remember that dreadful, dreadful day.

~°~

He had been sitting in the Main Hall, reading a book on the Western Continent's geographical structure and the different Forbidden Areas that existed since Ancient Times.

He had been waiting for Mother at that time, having heard from the servants that a letter had arrived through a carrier pigeon about Mother's impending arrival. Cale wasn't alone.

The servants were running around the place, preparing to welcome the Countess home after her sudden departure. Father was speaking with Deputy Butler Hans by the end of the staircase as they waited.

It was supposed to be proper etiquette to wait for guests or returning loved ones a step behind the Family Head's side. But Cale was an impatient child and he wanted to be the first person Mother sees once she enters the house.

As such, Cale had sat himself close to the front door just so he could greet Mother the moment she entered the house.

He would run up to her and hug her torso tightly. She would hug him back and laugh that melodic laugh of hers. Then, she would kiss the crown of his head and whisper, “I’m home, my dear.”

But it was not to be.

With a flash of lightning and a roar of thunder, the front doors opened and a bloody Jour Henituse collapsed onto the equally crimson carpet.

All Hell broke loose. Father had screamed in anguish as he held Mother close and immediately ordered for every reputable doctor, mage, and priest to come treat his injured wife.

Father had carried Mother to the Infirmary swiftly but safely, not wishing to put more strain on her wounds. Cale had been left alone in the empty Hall, frozen in his seat as he tried to process what he just witnessed.

"Young Master-nim?" The familiar voice of his personal Butler, Ron, broke through the haze in his brain. Cale looked up at the person that raised him and froze. Ron wasn't smiling.

It finally dawned on Cale the gravity of the situation.

"What happened?" Cale demanded, eyes flashing with barely restrained anger that disappeared a moment later. He needed to be calm. He mustn't be impulsive. He needs to control his emotions. He is the Heir of the Henituse County.

He must control his emotions. He won't let his emotions control him.

Ron stared into his eyes for a moment before nodding his head deeply. Good, Ron understood him.

"It appears the Countess was injured in the time between their arrival in Harris and before their departure. However, the knights and soldiers assigned to protect the Countess have no knowledge of just how she received her injuries."

Cale tilted his head, eyes darkening. "...Ron?" A dangerous tone that an eight year old shouldn't be able to muster escaped his lips.

"Yes, Young Master-nim?" Ron, unfazed by his sudden change in demeanor, prompted accordingly.

Cale stared at the still open page of his book as he fiddled the corner testily. "Are you telling me... That the knights and soldiers assigned to protect the Matriarch of the Henituse County," his eyes darken to a near pitch black, "failed?"

Ron closed his eyes as he bowed before him, a gloved hand held close to his chest. "I'm afraid so, Young Master-nim."

Thud!

The sound of a book closing shut  rang across the near empty Hall.

"Prepare for an execution."

"Yes, Young Master-nim."

~°~

The Henituse returned faults done to their people, especially their family, tenfold. They might not have harmed the Countess directly; by failing to protect her from threats and administering emergency first aid, they became instruments to the Countess' death.

Cale watched as Mother's coffin was slowly lowered into the muddy pit that the servants dug up this morning.

How dull.

The world was so dull now that the sun was laid to rest.

Cale was only eight years old, but there was an exhaustion engraved deep within his bones that a child his age shouldn't have.

Sniff.

A muffled sniffle by his side prompted Cale to glance at the sorrowful state of Father who was trying — and failing — to suppress his cries in front if so many people. Ah, yes. Mother had been a Wife, too. She had been Father's beloved wife who loved him just as much.

Cale lightly grasped Father's shaking hand to get his attention.

Father slowly looked down at him in response. Cale gently tugged Father down to his knees and wrapped his arms around Father's neck.

"Mother would not wish for you to anguish like this, Father." He began as he felt Father tense in his arms. "But you have a right to grieve her loss. So don't be afraid to grieve as much as you want."

Father inhaled sharply before wrapping his arms around Cale. It wasn't long before Father's barely muffled sniffles turned into loud heartbreaking sobs.

Cale looked down at the back of Father's head and silently watched as a collection of tightly packed Rings appeared in his field of vision.

The vision of a brown haired family of four engraved itself into his mind, never to be forgotten. The fact that he was nowhere to be found in Father's future, Cale knew that this would haunt him for the rest of his life.

At last, Father slowly pulled away from him. Cale ignored the way Father wiped his tears away. At this very moment, Father was a Husband who lost his Wife, not Count Henituse. Cale will not begrudge him his emotions.

(Cale was a Son who lost his Mother.)

The vassals and branch family members were looking at Cale, waiting to see his next move, waiting to find an opportunity to remove him from the line of succession. He may be the Count's only Son, but Mother is dead and her Family has fallen. He is an Heir with no political backing. He can be replaced with just one wrong move.

The graveyard is full of people.

Father is by his side.

But Mother is gone.

Cale has never felt so alone.