Sofia Wintaling, born Sofia Inverness, granddaughter of the "Stallion" Duke of Inverness, married into the Baron Targas's family after his first wife's death, becoming his second wife and mother to twins, thereby solidifying her position in the household. Although born into a ducal family, Sofia didn't have much access to resources due to her low rank in the family hierarchy. Her grandfather, the Duke, notoriously known as the "Stallion," had numerous offspring. Sofia, being the seventh daughter of the Duke's ninth son, found herself amidst an extensive family with numerous uncles, siblings, and cousins, making any hope of inheriting a significant part of the family estate a distant dream. Shortly after reaching adulthood, she was sent off for a convenient noble marriage, which led her to Baron Targas.
Sofia was strikingly beautiful, and even at thirty-five, having birthed two children, she maintained her appearance impeccably. Her twins, Gwynnis's half-siblings, were already seventeen. Gwynnis's impression of Sofia was neutral at best. She had married into the family when he was two years old, and since he was raised by a wet nurse, he hardly felt any maternal connection with her. Moreover, Gwynnis was quite estranged from his younger siblings, especially after being expelled from the family and wandering for five years, leaving no trace of familial warmth or affection in his memories.
Despite the distance, Gwynnis maintained basic courtesy.
"Sofia, mother, greetings. I heard father has been ill; it must have been hard on you taking care of him."
Sofia greeted him with a gentle smile.
"Gwynnis, it's been five years; you've matured. Your father would be delighted to know. Come, have a chat with him."
Standing up, Sofia, along with Baldwin, moved towards the door, gesturing for him to call the children as well. Gwynnis approached the bedside and crouched down, realizing then that his father was not just ill; he was nearing death.
Gwint Wintaling, Baron of Targas, lay on the bed, his breath fragile and fleeting, as if any moment might be his last in the embrace of Saint Agnes. Yet, he was still alive, though possibly unable to see or hear.
Gwynnis leaned closer, whispering, "Father, I have returned."
There was no response.
Gwynnis felt a pang of sadness, gripping his father's hand. The memories of his original self still influenced him, evoking a sorrowful sentiment. Suddenly, his father's hand twitched, seemingly in response, surprising Gwynnis, though it seemed more like an illusion.
Soon, Sofia returned, bringing a chair to the bedside.
"Please, sit. Tell us about what happened these years," she said, holding Gwynnis's hands tenderly, listening intently, nodding occasionally. Her pale blue eyes slightly narrowed, forming crescent moons.
The room fell into a quiet hush, filled only with Gwynnis's soft narration. The fire burned silently, with occasional soft pops from the wood.
Shortly, Sofia's twins, Gwynnis's half-brother and sister, arrived. Gideon Wintaling, the Baron's third son, inherited his mother's striking looks, handsome with a pair of careless and disinterested amethyst eyes. Seventeen-year-old Gideon, responding to his mother's call, gave a slight nod to Gwynnis, then began pacing the room, clearly impatient with the room's odorous air.
Julianna Wintaling, the Baron of Targas's eldest daughter and Gwynnis's half-sister, shared her age of seventeen with Gideon. Her beauty was breathtaking, especially her captivating amethyst eyes. Unlike her brother Gideon, she was more polite and approachable.
Upon entering the room, Julianna bowed slightly to Gwynnis, "It's been a long time, brother." Throughout the visit, she stood beside her mother, Sofia, occasionally nodding or softly echoing the conversation, epitomizing grace and poise.
Soon, Gideon found an excuse to leave, for which Sofia softly reprimanded him. Then, realizing something, she exclaimed, "Gwynnis, you've just returned home, and last night's rain was heavy, wasn't it? Look at you, all drenched. I've been negligent, keeping you here talking. Go, change your clothes. We'll have plenty of time to talk later."
Gwynnis nodded and followed Baldwin out of the room. As the door closed behind him, he sighed in relief, his expression resembling that of a diplomat who's just completed a challenging negotiation.
Gwynnis pondered his precarious position. Could he still salvage his life if he surrendered now? Could he wave a white flag, renounce his claim to the title, and entrust his life to their mercy, hoping for compassion? It seemed impossible.
Despite having no concrete evidence, Gwynnis was certain that the murderous intent he felt upon entering the castle emanated from Sofia. It was highly likely that the assassination attempt at the inn was also orchestrated by her.
It wasn't long before they reached his room on the second floor of the main keep. The layout of the main keep was such that the ground floor served as a dining and reception area, with male servants' quarters on the left and female servants' quarters on the right. The second floor housed the Baron's bedroom and study on the left, and the children's rooms on the right, with a living room in the middle.
"Lord Gwynnis, please," Baldwin ushered him into the room.
This room, Gwynnis's childhood abode, had been vacant since his departure years ago. It showed signs of hasty cleaning, with some oversights. "It's been empty since you left, and some furniture was moved out. It's a bit bare, please excuse that. I'll arrange to have it furnished properly," Baldwin said.
Gwynnis surveyed the room. The bed was still there, and the bedding was fresh. That was enough for him. "It's fine, no need for fuss. I'm only staying temporarily. If I can't move into my father's room, I might as well end up in a coffin, right?" he said, turning to Baldwin.
Baldwin hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"How long has my father been ill? Who wrote the letter to me?" Gwynnis pulled out the letter. The handwriting was neat and strong, clearly not that of a bedridden man.
"Two years ago, the Baron started feeling unwell. It began as minor issues but worsened. Six months ago, he became bedridden and mostly confined to his room," Baldwin explained.
"Two months ago, his condition deteriorated drastically. The Baron spent most days unconscious, rarely awake. When he was, he asked me to write two letters, calling you and Reynard back."
"Even though he might not be able to tell you himself, the Baron believes that disowning you and Reynard was his biggest mistake."
Gwynnis raised an eyebrow, "Why? Why did my father send us away and now call us back? What changed?"
There could be many reasons, including regret, loneliness, or dissatisfaction with the current heirs.
But there was another possibility.
"Baldwin, what color are my father's eyes?" Gwynnis suddenly asked after a moment of silence.
"Why do you ask...?" Baldwin pondered, then replied, "Grey."
"And mine?"
"Also grey."
Gwynnis nodded, "Go on. Why did my father call me back?"
Baldwin glanced around to ensure privacy, then whispered, "The Baron suspects that Gideon and Julianna... are not his biological children..."