The Unwanted Prince

Ch. 17 - Adrian

I don't like to talk about it.

The incident.

It wasn't a popular topic anyway back home. It was sort of a shame to talk about it.

But it's not like the incident never leaves my mind.

Grandy dying was possibly the worst thing that's ever happened in Tavern history. He was a great king, leading Tavern to be a success. Although we were small, other kingdoms respected us. Grandy was noble and everyone, regardless of status, honored him in the greatest ways.

Perhaps it was his past military achievements. He was a great fighter in the war before it was put on hold. If I remember correctly, Grandy's title was, "The King of Lions". It was a tacky name, but I admired it as a child.

The King of Lions, Everest Clement. That was his name.

How long has it been since I've thought of that name?

Too long.

Grandy had given up the throne by the time I could walk. My father had succeeded the throne after that. While my parents were busy loving Stephan, Grandy gave his attention to me.

I guess that's where the initial spark of hatred between Stephan and I started. Stephan got the love of our parents, while one of the greatest heroes of our time loved me.

Did it really matter anyway?

Grandy died, leaving me alone.

When he died, my parents got rid of everything relating to him. They burned his clothes, bed, riches, everything. Grandy's room was remade into a room for my mother and her ladies-in-waiting. I hated that. I hated hearing those pesky women gossiping in what once was my grandfather's room.

My father had sold Grandy's horse to an old retired duke in the north. I hated that as well. Grandy's horse was lovely and gentle. It was a chestnut-colored colt, with a white stripe on the face. He had the darkest eyes any horse could have.

Rat and Grandy's horse had gotten along so well. Rat was still young, so I'm not sure if she remembers Grandy's horse. That is if horses even have a good memory at all.

But what I hated most?

The fact that my parent's jealousy of Grandy's success caused them to almost erase him from our history. My parents, especially my father, would never admit it from their own stubborn pride. But they hated my grandfather with everything they've got in those disgusting minds of theirs.

Grandy had led the kingdom life of wealth and prosperity, he's made a famous name of himself among humanity, he was a hero. No matter what, they could never please others the way Grandy had done. The difference between them was my parents wanted to be respected out of pride and selfishness. Meanwhile, my grandfather did everything out of the kindness in his heart.

I always say I hated green eyes. They reminded me of my family. The Clements were full of greed and envy.

However, that wasn't true for Grandy. His eyes were the only green ones I could ever love.

Call it bias, but Grandy never looked at me like I shouldn't have been born. He never once called me "an accident". In fact, my grandfather had taught me to fight. My father was against that, saying a son that was meant to go to the church wouldn't need to fight.

Grandy said something so meaningful, I still hear it sometimes.

"If Adrian wants to learn how to fight, then let him. He's more than the role he was born into."

I was nine when he said that, at the time I didn't understand what he meant.

But now I do. Grandy saw potential in me. He knew I'd be a better king than Stephan. Tavern wasn't going to accept that, so he was teaching me to fight in order to earn my way to becoming a king.

I was raised by the strongest hero ever.

I can never drag his name in the mud.

Unfortunately, my parents didn't mind doing that.

I hate them.

They were the fakest of the fake. If they were porcelain dolls given to me, I'd smash them to bits. With Grandy no longer here, they had cast me aside. They didn't listen to me when I begged them not to burn Grandy's belongings. I cried and cried to them to not take down Grandy's portrait from our family line. I had stood outside, blocking the way when that hideous pot-bellied duke was taking away Grandy's horse.

That was Grandy's horse. He belonged to my grandfather!

My father had hit me that day. Smacked me right over the head. Stephan was standing by, I could recall my brother's sneer as he watched me cry on the pavement.

"It's your own fault, Adrian." Stephan had said to me. I was only twelve at the time and Stephan was already a grown adult. To make matters worst, it was all happening too fast.

The moment Grandy's funeral was over, my parents had done everything they could to erase him.

Of course, our subjects weren't proud of that. But they couldn't do anything, my father was king at the time. He could do whatever he pleased because Grandy was no longer there to stop him. If it weren't for the advisors, Father would've gotten rid of everything.

I had to thank the advisors on their behalf.

It was Grandy's wish that I keep his sword and pocket watch. If the advisors hadn't stepped in, I'm afraid those two things would've been gone as well.

At least karma came to my parents. They died a year later, which serves them right.

I hate my family.

They wouldn't hesitate to erase someone from the family tree. Grandy was the perfect person to have ever lived, and yet because of my parent's jealousy, he was almost erased from existence.

He didn't deserve that.

He deserved to live a long life. He should've lived to retirement, gone off and bought a manor to live with his horse. Grandy's wife had died in childbirth, so he'd be lonely. But I would've come to visit him.

Instead, Grandy died at sixty-three from a dragon attack. He died fighting a dragon in Tavern's woods.

He could still be alive.

And it's my fault he's dead.