Sieghard stared at his son in silence for a few moments; during this time, all he did was slowly drink down the glass of whiskey. It was only after he had finished its contents that he began to speak the thoughts on his mind.
"When you were but a child, I did not believe you would live to be an adult. After all, you were so sickly back then. Because of this fact, I had focused all of my efforts on raising Lambert to be my successor. I left you to the life of a lazy wastrel, and if I am honest, I did not care; because I was sure that you would die before reaching the age of majority.
Despite this, you limped on, for years, engaging in pointless frivolities and smearing my family name. Yet, I tolerated it because I kept telling myself soon enough you would be dead, and Lambert would be my heir. When you fell ill a little over a year and a half ago, I assumed that was it, that you would be dead and in the grave and no longer be a black mark on my family's history.
