The pleasure house was exactly what Aiden had expected; a lavishly decorated establishment filled with women of various shapes and sizes, each one making bold eye contact and suggestive gestures.
Some were bold enough to brush their hands across his loin area as he walked through, to get a feel of his arousal.
"You, you, you there, and you," Aiden said, pointing to four women who caught his attention. He made his selections based purely on physical appeal, drawn to their curves and the way they carried themselves.
One of them had even grabbed his hand and pressed it against her chest, letting him feel her fullness. He paid the establishment's owner in gold and left with all four women in tow.
Perhaps it wasn't the most dignified way to lose his virginity, four different women taking turns with him, the decision felt entirely impulsive and yet, somehow deserved.
"At least I deserve this much," Aiden thought to himself. He had abstained for so long, despite knowing such pleasures could come to him easily whenever he wished.
The carriage ride back to the palace felt endless, but eventually they arrived, and Aiden had all four women escorted to his chambers. Once they reached his room, the women began loosening their clothes, letting garments fall carelessly to the floor in different corners.
They moved toward him, eager to help him undress, but suddenly disgust washed over him and then he snapped, "Leave me alone!"
His tone was sharp enough that they immediately backed away, clustering together on his massive bed while he stood, leaving his already pulled down shirt on the bed and walking toward the windows.
Aiden had been in an emotional state ever since leaving the academy, and now the weight of the day's events crashed down on him. He stared out the window, trapped in an endless loop of thoughts about his failure, wondering why his life was always a disaster.
All the stress of the past year, the extra training, the pleading, the hope, had yielded nothing but an E-rank score. His peers were already members of prestigious guilds, while he, at nineteen, still couldn't even gain admission to the academy.
Lost in his thoughts, Aiden stood shirtless in his black pants and boots, so absorbed in his misery that he didn't hear approaching footsteps.
He was only jolted back to reality when a thunderous voice filled his chamber. "Get out of here, all of you!" King Jarius Crowley's voice rang through the room.
The four women, in see-through robes they usually wore, underneath thicker garments, hurriedly scrambled from the bed, grabbing their scattered clothes from various corners of the chamber before rushing toward the door.
Aiden turned quickly, bowing his head in a mixture of shame and respect, "Father…"
The furious king was an imposing figure. A matured middle-aged man whose long, silver-white hair was slicked back, with his full beard being the same color.
Each step he took into the room seemed to increase the tension in the air. "What did you score?" he asked directly. Of course, he already knew as word had reached him from the Spire about all his children's results.
"Father, I'm..." Aiden began, but Jarius cut him off immediately. That wasn't the beginning of an answer he wanted to hear.
"What did you score, you bloody scum?" His voice thundered through the prince's chambers once more and so loudly that servants in the hallways paused in shock. Some began moving closer to listen, and idle chatter started among the palace maids.
"An E!" Aiden yelled back, his voice mixing embarrassment with sadness. "I scored an E, Father." He turned back toward the window, desperately trying to hide his building tears and maintain some semblance of composure.
"Don't you dare turn your back when your king speaks!" Jarius's voice shook the room again, and almost immediately, Aiden spun back to face him, though his head remained downcast.
"How are you supposed to be my heir one day if you can't even muster a B-rank magic score? How?" Jarius demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "You're an embarrassment to the Crowley name!" He spat on the ground.
"Maybe this was the gods' way of punishing me for my infidelity, they made you take after the whore who mothered you."
That was the final straw and right then Aiden snapped. "Then maybe you should have kept your dick to yourself!" he shot back, finally having reached his breaking point.
"How dare you?" Jarius said in a low, yet menacing tone. At that moment, the entire room began trembling under the force of his magic.
The massive crystal chandelier hanging from the soaring ceiling started shaking, its lights flickering as the crystals clinked together. Cups fell from tables and mirrors shattered against the walls.
Aiden looked around frantically, his eyes wide with shock at what he was witnessing. "Father, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he started pleading, but it was already too late.
His voice became mere background noise as Jarius looked up at his son, then immediately, an invisible force seized hold of Aiden, lifting his feet off the ground and squeezing him like a vice.
Aiden cried out in pain as tears spurted from his eyes. He could feel the bones in his right arm dislocate and crack under the magical pressure.
The fury in King Jarius's eyes was so intense that he could have killed his son right there. Fortunately, that was the moment Lysandra burst into the room. "Father, you're killing him! Father, stop!" she screamed.
The gravity magic hold on Aiden immediately ceased, and his body crashed to the floor from the height where he'd been suspended. The impact made him groan even more as pain shot through his already injured form.
As Jarius turned to leave, he said "Even if it's the last thing I do, I will abolish this tradition that makes it compulsory for the king's firstborn son to be heir. You will never sit on the Wyrm Seat. Never!"
He adjusted his velvet cape that draped over his shoulders and his dark ceremonial robes as he walked away from the room.
A few minutes after Aiden had left the assessment halls, knowing how much pain her brother would be in, Lysandra had decided to follow him rather than wait for the proper academy induction process.
She immediately ran to Aiden's side, running her hand through his hair while trying to console him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Aiden."
Just as Jarius reached the entrance, his third child Lucas appeared, as he had followed behind Lysandra earlier.
"My apolo..." Lucas couldn't even finish his apology before the cold stare from his father silenced him completely, making him scramble to the side. Jarius left in a fury, with his footsteps echoing through the palace hallways.
Lucas then entered the room, looking up at the damaged ceiling and surveying the destruction. "What the hell happened here?" he asked, his eyes moving to the floor where he saw his twin sister Lysandra trying to console their crying elder brother, who clutched his broken arm.
A smile slowly spread across Lucas's lips as he pieced together what had occurred. It seemed their father had personally dealt with Aiden for failing to gain academy admission yet again, five failures in a row.
"Lysandra, let's go," he said to his sister. "Mother will be waiting to hear how we performed."
"You stupid fool, can't you see Aiden is hurt?" Lysandra glared at him with obvious annoyance.
"D-don't worry, j-just go," Aiden managed to say between sobs.
"But you're injured. Let me—" Lysandra wanted to protest, but Aiden stopped her. "It's fine, Lysandra. I'm good," he said, trying to turn his pained groan into something resembling a smile.
"You heard him, Lysandra. Let's go. Mother will be even more furious if she learns you were here," Lucas added with a sadistic expression.
Lysandra took one last sympathetic look at Aiden, who nodded for her to leave. "I'll send Grandal to tend to you immediately, and I'll check on you later," she promised.
Then she stood and walked past Lucas, giving him a cold glare before leaving the room.
Lucas laughed as Lysandra departed, then turned toward Aiden, who was still writhing in pain. "Word of advice, brother," Lucas began. "If I were you, I'd leave Dragonhold entirely. Or better yet, go feed yourself to Thyrak. Either way, there'll never be a place for you here." He made an audible clicking sound with his tongue and left the room.
Aiden stared at the ceiling, with his left hand holding his injured right arm as he writhed in pain. Tears continued rolling down his cheeks as he wondered why he had ever been born into this world. "I am done with this life," he whispered to himself.
This display was a perfect reflection of the Kingdom of Dragonhold. The capital of all nine kingdoms and the location of the Wyrm Seat. Like most kingdoms under its rule, your magical rank was the most important thing about you, whether you were royalty, nobility, elite, commoner, or even peasant.
Nothing else mattered more in this world where magic power determined everything.