Five years had passed since his reincarnation. During that time, Alqatil had adapted to the language of this world, learning to speak and write it fluently. It was surprising how similar this language was to Spanish, making it easier for him to learn. As he mentally reviewed the strange conjugations of certain verbs, a soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
—Come in —he said firmly.
The door opened to reveal a girl. Her face was angelic, with large eyes and dark hair that fell in soft waves. Luna Zolenos, his half-sister, had an expression of false innocence that Alqatil had learned to recognize over time.
—Hello, brother, how are you? Could you cover for me and say I went to train? —she asked in a singsong tone, accompanied by a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Alqatil sighed deeply.
—Hello, Luna. I'm sorry, but you know that if they find out you're lying, the blame will fall on me.
—Come on, don't be such a spoilsport. It'll just be this once.
—I said no. Besides, what are you planning to do? —he inquired, feeling curious despite himself.
—That's none of your business —she replied sharply. Then, with a defiant look, she added—: Don't forget who I am. I am the legitimate daughter, the true princess. You are nothing more than the son of a... opportunistic woman.
The word "whore" lingered in the air, but it didn't need to be spoken.
—Don't you dare speak of my mother like that! —Alqatil reacted instinctively, crossing the space between them and slapping her before he could even think.
Luna stepped back, her hand flying to her cheek, her eyes glistening with tears. Without saying another word, she ran out of the room, leaving Alqatil with guilt churning inside him.
After their brief but tense interaction, the girl ran with tears in her eyes, but her face quickly transformed into a mask of cunning as she walked through the palace halls.
The maids stepped aside, some lowering their gaze or whispering to one another, while others hid in corners, fearful of being caught in the radius of her anger. Luna walked with determined steps toward the throne room, where her father, Nerón, was seated in a majestic chair carved with dragon figures.
The room was impressive: the gleaming marble floors reflected the light falling from a massive chandelier, while columns draped with the empire's banners rose like silent giants. Yet, all the splendor seemed gloomy in the presence of Nerón, whose brow was permanently furrowed by the weight of power.
Luna reached him and, after dramatically kneeling, burst into tears.
—Father! Alqatil hit me! —she sobbed, clinging to the hem of the throne—. He insulted me, said horrible things... he even tried to hurt me in ways I can't even mention!
Nerón's brow furrowed even more, his face hardening like stone. He said nothing. With an almost imperceptible movement, he leaned toward the servant beside him and whispered something in his ear.
The servant nodded quickly and hurriedly left the room, heading toward one of the palace's side towers. There, in a study filled with books, maps, and strange tools, was the second prince, Kael Zolenos.
Kael had fiery red hair, short and messy, like flames trapped in motion, and amber eyes that resembled those of an alert dog. He was focused on solving an intricate 3D puzzle, a metal structure that seemed impossible to dismantle. Around him, scrolls and notebooks were scattered, filled with equations and meticulous notes.
The servant approached cautiously, knowing that interrupting Prince Kael was never a good idea.
—Your Majesty, the Emperor requests you. It's about your sister.
Kael paused, lifting his gaze toward the man. His eyes seemed to pierce anyone who met them, though a wry smile formed on his lips.
—What did she do this time? —he asked, carefully placing the puzzle on the table.
—It wasn't her, my prince. It was... the son of the other woman.
Kael slowly stood up, straightening his clothes.
—I see. I guess it's my turn to deal with this —he said, more to himself than to the servant.
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Back in Alqatil's room, footsteps echoed down the hallway before the door swung open. The imposing figure of Kael appeared, his presence filling the room like an impending storm.
—So... the little bastard dared to raise a hand against my sister —Kael said with a calm voice, but laced with threat.
Alqatil, still confused by the speed of events, tried to respond.
—It wasn't as you're saying. She...
—I don't care about your version —Kael interrupted him, advancing toward him—. You're a disgrace to our family. My father sent me to remind you of your place.
Without warning, Kael grabbed Alqatil by the collar of his shirt and slammed him hard, making him fall to the ground.
—Remember this, bastard. No matter how much you try to fit in, you will always be less than us.
Alqatil, with blood on his lips and his vision blurred by pain, watched as Kael calmly walked away, the door closing behind him. As it did, the echo of his half-brother's words resonated in his mind.
The punishment ended with an order that froze Alqatil's blood.
—Guards! Lock him in the dungeon for two months. Let him learn his place.
The guards dragged him away without ceremony, ignoring his injured state. When they reached the dungeon, they threw him inside like a sack of meat.
—Hurry up, I have more interesting things to do —said one of the guards.
—Again with your whores? —replied the other, mocking.
The words echoed in Alqatil's mind as he curled up on the cold, dark floor of the cell.
"I hate this rotten empire. I hate all of this," he thought, as his aching body and exhausted mind plunged him into a state of semi-consciousness.
—System... how many days have I been here? —he murmured with barely a whisper.
[0 days.]
The message hit him like a bucket of cold water.
"This will take longer than I thought," he reflected before exhaustion overtook him completely.
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──────────Flashback scene────────
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—Alqatil, don't run so fast! —his mother called, her gentle laughter filling the air—. If you keep doing that, you'll trip.
The boy quickly turned, his face illuminated by a smile full of excitement.
—Sorry, Mom! But I'm so happy... I'm finally going to meet everyone! —he exclaimed with innocent enthusiasm.
She caught up with him, her delicate figure wrapped in a simple dress that, though modest, highlighted an innate elegance. Her dark eyes were full of warmth but also a hint of unease.
—I know, dear, but remember something —she said, kneeling to his height—. No matter what others say, always keep your head held high.
—Why would anyone say something bad? —Alqatil asked, tilting his head with curiosity.
—Some people can't see beyond titles —she replied, gently stroking his hair—. But don't worry. The important thing is that we're together, right?
The boy nodded energetically.
—Yes, always together, Mom!
—Then, Mommy, would you prefer to grow teeth in your feet or have hair in your teeth?
—What are those questions, Alqi? But I think hair in the teeth.
—Gross, Mom! Imagine kissing someone... yuck!
When they reached the dining room, their laughter filled the space, but it was quickly replaced by an uncomfortable silence. All eyes turned toward them. Emperor Nerón was sitting at the head of the table, watching them with an unreadable expression. Around him, the other family members carried an air of evident superiority.
The atmosphere was suffocating, heavy with barely concealed hostility. The sharp remarks didn't take long to come.
—Look who deigns to show up —murmured one of the consorts, a woman with golden hair and a venomous look—. I thought this was a place for nobles, not for... trash from filthy poor people.
Alqatil's mother maintained her composure, ignoring the words as if she hadn't heard them.
However, Alqatil couldn't help but feel the tension. He wanted to shout at them, defend his mother, but a gentle squeeze of his hand stopped him.
—It doesn't matter what they say —she whispered—. We're better than that.
The only exception to the general coldness was Luna, Nerón's youngest daughter, who watched Alqatil with curiosity. When the comments stopped, she slid toward him, a shy smile on her face.
—Hello, I'm Luna.
—I... I'm Alqatil.
—Why are they so mean to you? —she asked quietly, nodding toward the others.
—I don't know. Mom says it's because... they can't see beyond titles.
The girl frowned as if processing the answer, then nodded.
—Well, if they don't want to be kind, I will be for them —she said, extending her hand—. Friends?
Alqatil smiled, taking her hand.
—Friends.
Over time, their relationship blossomed, sharing games and secrets, while Alqatil's mother found small moments of peace seeing them together. However, that tranquility wasn't meant to last.
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Days later, Alqatil's mother decided to take him to the city. She wanted him to see a bit of the world beyond the palace walls. It was an opportunity to escape, even if only for a few hours, from the constant oppression.
—Mom, why are we buying all this? —Alqatil asked, looking at the bags they were carrying.
—Because when the family gathers, everyone must present their best version —she replied with a smile, though there was a hidden sadness in her voice.
However, as they were returning to the castle, a group of men intercepted them in an alley. Alqatil's mother immediately sensed the danger, pulling him back.
—Who are you? Let us pass! —she demanded firmly.
The leader of the group, a man with a scar crossing his face, smiled cruelly.
—We're just following orders, peasant. No one will miss you.
In an instant, the men surrounded them, grabbing them forcefully. Alqatil's mother struggled, but they outnumbered her and were stronger.