When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, and our carriage was nearing the capital. The Duke's mansion wasn't within the city itself but on the side of the capital that faced our dukedom. Within thirty minutes, we crossed into the mansion's lands, where rows of staff awaited my arrival. One of my men had ridden ahead on the fastest horse to inform them of my impending visit, giving them two hours to prepare.
The carriage came to a halt at the main entrance. The staff bowed in unison on either side of the path, forming a corridor of respect. At the center stood my father, Duke Muller Windborne, with his imposing presence, and my mother, Duchess Olivia Windborne, exuding warmth and grace.
I stepped out of the carriage and approached them, bowing respectfully. My father greeted me with a rare smile, while my mother immediately pulled me into a hug, tears streaming down her face.
"I missed you so much, my little boy," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
"Mother, I'm not a little boy," I replied, mildly annoyed yet touched by her affection.
"You'll always be my little boy," she said, her tears accompanied by a radiant smile.
Despite my earlier irritation, I hugged her back. Her love was unmistakable, and something in me felt comforted.
After a moment, I turned to my father. "Father, we need to speak," I said calmly, maintaining proper decorum.
He nodded, and together with my mother, we headed to the dining hall. Once seated, the conversation began.
"What is the reason you called me to the capital?" I asked directly.
"We were worried about you," my father replied. "Especially your mother."
"Why? Do you know how much I think about you?" my mother interjected, her voice a mix of concern and frustration. "The border is no place for a young man to play around. You only just turned nineteen, and yet you keep postponing marriage. If you refuse again, we'll decide on a partner for you ourselves!"
Her words came in a torrent, and I felt cornered. "Okay, okay, I understand," I replied hastily, hoping to escape the situation. Their reactions were unexpectedly positive, which only made me realize my mistake. I scrambled to correct myself.
"But," I added quickly, "I will decide who I marry. Until then, no more talk about it."
My mother sighed, visibly relieved. "Fine, I agree. At least you're not outright refusing anymore."
Turning to my father, I noticed his expression growing stern. "Why did you speak against the crown prince again? This isn't the first time, Newt. You're lucky this time he only sent you to the border. I had to intervene and bring you back because of your mother's insistence. Don't make such foolish mistakes again. He is going to be king, and you will serve him. Such actions will tarnish your reputation. Remember, just because the king is your uncle doesn't mean you can do as you please. Even family ties can be severed."
I nodded, acknowledging his words. "I understand, Father. I'll be more careful in the future. I've learned a lot during my time at the border."
"Good," he replied, his tone softening slightly. "I believe in you, Newt. Just don't make me regret it."
The conversation shifted, and we enjoyed a pleasant lunch, discussing various topics. When it was my turn, I answered thoughtfully, trying to showcase the maturity I had gained.
"Father, Mother, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to visit the library," I said. "I want to learn more. My time at the border made me realize how much I lack in knowledge."
My father nodded approvingly. "I see. It's good that you've recognized this. The border seems to have had a positive impact on you. Perhaps it's fate."
As I left the dining hall, I heard my mother speak to my father. "Darling, don't you think Newt has changed a lot? It's like he's become a different person."
"Yes," my father replied. "He's more mature now. Perhaps the border truly shaped him. Maybe it's time to let him decide for himself when it comes to marriage."
I decided to explore the manor before heading to the library. The halls, grand and filled with history, felt like a museum of a bygone era. Each step was a journey into the past. Eventually, I entered a vast and luxurious hall lined with portraits.
The closest portrait caught my eye—it was of my parents in their youth. My father, Muller, looked sturdy and well-built, even in his twenties, his black hair and sharp features similar to mine. My mother, Olivia, the sister of the current king, was radiant with her blonde hair—a mark of royalty—and her piercing blue eyes, an unusual trait among the royal family, who typically had green eyes.
As I walked further, the portraits became older and older. At the end of the hall hung the portraits of a man and woman. The man had black hair and black eyes, exuding a commanding presence, while the woman had blonde hair and green eyes, the epitome of Morvayn royalty. Their names were inscribed at the bottom: Oliver Ash and Amber Ash.
"Oliver Ash…" I murmured to myself. "That surname belongs to the royal family. What's a royal doing in our lineage?"
I stood there for a while, lost in thought, before heading to the library. The past seemed to be woven into every corner of this place, but my focus now was on the future—and the answers I sought.