1 year ago….
The Brenthall courthouse was in session and was filled with tension, making the onlookers hold their breath, its usual mightiness was overshadowed by the solemn aura of what was about to unfold. Every person in the family was present today, hushed murmurs resonating in the courthouse.
William, 17 now, stood at the center of the chamber, his posture steady, his hands clasped behind his back. He grew up rather nicely and his calmness made them feel a sense of safety.
William's eyes swept the room, landing briefly on each member of his family. His siblings sat rigid, some with faint smirks, others with scowls. His face, a mask of simmering anger as he looked at his son. His father, Lord Arstan Brenthall, sat above them all in the "head chair."
"You would throw away everything we've built?" Arstan's voice sounded, filling the space. "The wealth, the influence, the power? All because you have some naïve notion of fairness?"
