In the Library
Jonathan, now fourteen, sat with perfect posture at the large mahogany table, his eyes focused on the book before him. Across from him sat Walter, just ten years old, but with a sharpness in his gaze that didn't match his age.
Walter wasn't reading.He was staring.
Specifically, at Jonathan.
Lennox, their tutor, glanced over the edge of his book and caught the intense look. He cleared his throat.
"Walter, if you're done admiring Lord Jonathan's hair, perhaps you could focus on the book?"
Startled, Walter snapped his head back down and pretended to read. Jonathan, confused, looked up for a second. His brows lifted slightly as their eyes met—then he turned back to his page with a small sigh.
Lennox smirked. "If the two of you are quite done, shall we begin the test?"
Jonathan nodded. "I'm ready."
Walter straightened. "Me too."
Lennox handed out the test papers. Silence filled the library as the boys scribbled away, the ticking of the antique clock marking the minutes. Thirty minutes later, Lennox stood and collected the papers.
He scanned through Walter's answer first.
Question: How can we protect our kingdom and ensure peace for future generations?Walter's answer:"Burn it down before someone else does. Only ashes know true peace."
Lennox blinked slowly. "…Walter, do you want to die?"
Walter shrugged, completely unfazed. "No."
Then Lennox turned to Jonathan's paper, and his expression softened slightly as he read:
Jonathan's answer:"We protect our kingdom not just with swords, but with wisdom and compassion. True peace is born when justice is upheld, when every voice is heard, and when leaders choose understanding over war. To ensure peace for future generations, we must plant the seeds of kindness now, even if we may never see them bloom."
Lennox folded both papers with a sigh. "I'll mark these later. Class is over."
He left without another word.
Moments Later, in the Hallway
Jonathan pushed back from his chair. "Walter… did you write something stupid again?"
Walter smiled innocently. "Absolutely not."
Before Jonathan could respond, Bretum entered. "Young masters, it's time to eat."
"I'm not hungry," Jonathan said, brushing past him.
Bretum didn't budge. Without hesitation, he picked the boy up, cradling him with ease. "Master Jonathan, you can refuse after you eat. Not before."
"Put me down!" Jonathan shouted, squirming. "I said I'm not hungry!"
Walter trailed behind them, chuckling. "You'll be weak if you keep skipping meals. You know that."
"I'm not weak!" Jonathan pouted, puffing his cheeks in frustration.
But then—his stomach growled loudly.
Walter smirked. "You weren't hungry, huh?"
Jonathan looked away, cheeks flushing.
In the Dining Hall
Bretum sat Jonathan firmly on the dining chair. Another servant washed both boys' hands, while the kitchen staff laid out a warm spread: soup, roasted chicken, soft bread, and honeyed apples.
Walter climbed into the seat next to him, and Bretum sat beside them, spoon in hand like a patient father.
"Eat well," he said softly, feeding them one bite at a time.
Jonathan gave up his fight, cheeks full of food, and muttered through a mouthful, "I didn't say I wouldn't eat…"
Walter just grinned. "You're such a drama prince."
Jonathan glared but didn't deny it.
The soft clinking of silverware and warm scent of freshly prepared food filled the air when Charles entered the room. His eyes fell on the two boys at the table—Walter and Jonathan.
Without a word, he took a seat beside them. After a few moments, he turned to Jonathan.
"Jonathan," he asked gently, "do you remember anything about the past?"
Jonathan paused, then shook his head. "No... I don't."
Charles studied him closely.It's been four years since that panic attack... and he still doesn't remember. Not his home, not the people around him... not even what happened before he came here.
Charles placed a comforting hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "One day, when you're grown, you'll have your own role to play here. Are you ready for that?"
Jonathan nodded. "Yes. I think I am."
Walter let out a quiet sigh beside them. "Father... when will William come back? Is he really never going to stay with us? It's been four years. I miss him."
Charles looked at his younger son and gave a small smile. "Just two more years. Then William will return—and this time, he'll stay."
Jonathan glanced at Walter, a little puzzled. He leaned in and whispered, "Who's William?"
Walter blinked. "He's my brother."
Jonathan tilted his head slightly. "So… not mine?"
Walter gave a small laugh. "No, not yours. But he's important to me."
Jonathan nodded slowly, eyes dropping to his plate. "I see..."
He was quiet after that, but Charles noticed the way he glanced at Walter—curious, maybe even a little envious. Not of William, but of the connection Walter still had with someone.
Charles watched them in silence, wondering what the next two years would bring.