*Erik POV*
After a week at Oakenhold, I still found it hard to truly believe that it was now mine. My father had brought me here once as a boy, it was during Hawke’s 18th birthday when the castle and the surrounding land had been gifted to him.
My father had done the same thing for Falcon at Talon Spire a few years before.
I knew, even at that age, that I would never receive such a gift from King Vadon. I had been the embarrassment, proof of the king’s folly, a prince with ‘tainted’ blood not fit to sit on a throne. Not even the throne of a lord.
Even the tapestries that depicted members of the Briarly family had my face and name absent. Not that I cared much now for such things. But it hurt a younger version of me.
