The Outcast's Rebirth

CHAPTER 44: Farewells And Legacies

Over the next two days, the mansion was alive with purpose and urgency.

Servants rushed between the grand halls and the docks, preparing supplies for the voyage. The ship had arrived, its masts casting long shadows on the water as the crew made final checks.

Some black servants had chosen to stay behind, their loyalty to the estate and to Winston strong enough to withstand his absence.

Others, however, welcomed the chance to escape the mansion’s ever-thickening atmosphere.

On the eve of departure, Aethel arrived. The young man stepped through the doors, a place he hadn’t expected to see again, and let his gaze travel over the familiar yet altered surroundings.

His black eyes were sharp, taking in details with a new perception. He felt the gravity in the air, the silence as thick as smoke.

He had changed—no longer the carefree boy who once ran through these halls, but a man of quiet ambition.

His mother’s influence was apparent in his thoughtful demeanor, but where Maryanne leaned on principles, Aethel walked a path of pragmatism, more like Winston than he’d like to admit.

He hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a familiar voice called out, “Brother.”

Aethel turned, and a small smile lifted his lips as he saw Kazi approaching. The younger man moved with a quiet grace, a calmness that set him apart from others in the mansion. The two clasped hands briefly, a silent exchange passing between them.

“Glad you could make it,” Kazi said, his voice warm, a hint of relief softening his expression.

Aethel returned the smile, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Likewise, Kazi. It’s been too long.” He took a moment, his tone softening. “And your Mama? How is he?”

Kazi’s gaze dropped for a beat. “He’s…better. Healing, I think. It’s been a hard road.”

Aethel nodded thoughtfully. “Good. He’s strong.” They exchanged a look of understanding, both aware of the burdens Kyzzu carried.

As they walked together, their footsteps echoed down the dim hallway leading to Winston’s study.

The faint scent of whiskey grew stronger with each step, mixing with the heavy silence that filled the corridors. Aethel glanced at Kazi, their expressions mirroring the unease they both felt.

When they reached the study, Aethel paused, lifting his hand to knock. He hesitated, as if bracing himself, and then rapped his knuckles against the door. Silence. Exchanging a glance with Kazi, Aethel turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The scene before them was disheartening, if not entirely unexpected. Winston slumped in his leather armchair, his head bowed, a few empty whiskey bottles scattered at his feet.

He looked like a king fallen from grace, the confident figure he once was reduced to something raw and fragile.

Aethel stepped forward, swallowing his irritation. He reached out and shook his father’s shoulder gently but firmly. “Father,” he called softly, careful not to sound reproachful.

Winston’s eyes fluttered open, clouded and bleary as he tried to focus on his surroundings. His gaze landed on his sons, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face.

For a moment, he looked every bit his age, caught off guard in a rare state of vulnerability. But the mask slipped back quickly.

“Aethel,” he muttered, his voice rough. He tried to straighten himself, the whiskey haze clearing enough to bring a sharp edge back to his gaze. “Didn’t expect you so soon.” He paused, a weak smile breaking through. “It’s good you’re here. It’s… been too long.”