"You dealt with the mother?" My father, the Duke, spoke to my captors first.
"Haha, we sure did. We took real good care of her," laughed a brown-haired man with a thick mustache, who I had come to understand was the leader of the group.
"Ain't that right?" said the black-haired one next to him. "She cried real pretty for me." He laughed like it was a big joke to him.
The memory of his hands on my body made my stomach churn. My heart pounded in my chest and it started to feel like I couldn't breathe. I struggled to draw air into my lungs, horrified by their casual talk about murdering my mother. How could these people even be considered human? I kept my head down as I took ragged breaths, trying to hold back the tears that stung my eyes. No, I refused to let them see me cry.
"Pray tell me, Sir Tarlon, was it painful?" I don't know what shocked me more, the fact that her words indicated that the filthy human in front of me was a knight, or the disgustingly sweet tone in which my father's wife asked him that. The anticipation in her voice sickened me.
"My lady, most beautiful Duchess of Ramport, I guarantee that I took every precaution to ensure her last night on earth was as painful and humiliating as possible. Her screams echoed through the forest for hours," Sir Tarlon assured her with a smile.
"Excellent. That whore seduced my huband and stole his progeny. I am glad to hear that she has been well punished for her evil deeds." I glanced up and saw a cruel, self-satisfied smile on the Duchess's face. Looking at her daughter, one might have thought they were discussing the weather. She smiled and nodded along, completely unbothered by the topic.
"Right, you'll get your bonus pay in three days," the Duke said to the group of knights, dismissing them. Then he turned to see my figure still collapsed on the ground at the foot of the stairs. "On your feet, boy. I've been looking for you for quite some time, and it took a lot of effort to get you here. You best not disappoint me now."
I remained on my knees, my eyes fixed on the ground in front of me. Perhaps if I showed enough defiance, I would get lucky and he would kill me outright. I felt a rough hand grab my hair and pull me to my feet. Forced to look up, I silently met my father's eyes.
"Make no mistake, by bringing you here I have saved you from a wasting your life away as a worthless commoner. And since I'm the one who freed you from the life of poverty that your whore of a mother condemned you to, in return I expect nothing less than your unquestioning obedience, do you understand?" the Duke asked in a threatening whisper. "You will act as my heir, do as I say, and do so without bringing shame upon my house. No one need know that you're the son of some useless bitch who couldn't even open her legs properly."
I gazed directly into his eyes as he spoke. I could see his contempt for me clearly reflected in those familiar yet alien green eyes. I was sure he could see the defiance in mine as well.
He dropped me to the ground and landed a sharp kick to my ribcage. I coughed and sputtered, overwhelmed by the sudden pain, but I forced myself to look up and meet his eyes again.
"What's your name, boy?" he asked me in an even tone.
I remained silent. The name my mother had given me was Falyn, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. That name was something she had given me, and I refused to share it with him.
The silence stretched on for a moment, before he backhanded me across the face with all his might. I saw stars in my vision and the whole side of my face lit up with pain. I tasted blood and realized that the inside of my mouth had been ripped open by my teeth.
I spat blood on the ground and looked back up at him. I was pretty sure that his earlier kick had broken one of my ribs. I could feel my face already starting to swell. I looked up at my father and said nothing.
"Very well. You will learn the hard way then. From this day forward, you can forget whatever name your whore mother called you. You are now Julien de Ramport, my son and heir. Any shame you bring to my family will be etched into the skin of your back. Do you understand me? Speak, boy. Tell me you understand."
I knelt before him in silence, hatred burning in my eyes. But no matter how long he waited, I didn't open my mouth to answer. Finally, he lost his patience and began beating me in earnest. It was the first time I had ever been beaten like that; endless blows raining down on me, merciless and deliberate. The fog returned, dulling my senses and allowing the beating to fade into the distance.
As I was kicked and stomped into blissful oblivion, I didn't cry out at all. In fact, I didn’t make another noise for over nine years after that day.
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