Adrian limped home in half-pieces, his body still bruised, his ribs aching, and his mind drowning in everything he had heard at the palace.
The pain from the duel was one thing but
The pain of hearing his family choose Enzo over him was another. That one cut deeper.
It had burrowed beneath his skin and settled in his chest like poison, feeding every ugly thought in his mind.
Every step he took back to his manor felt heavier than the last, not only because of the injuries Enzo had left behind, but because of the truth he had overheard in that throne room.
He had gone there hoping for answers, hoping his father would explain himself, hoping there was still some misunderstanding in all of this.
Instead, he had found out that the throne had been slipping from his hands long before the duel ever happened.
That before he was born his life had already been decided.
