The heavy, ornate doors to the Varnhart family's grand dining hall creaked open, and the children, all seated at the long oak table, fell into an uneasy silence. They had been waiting for their father, the mighty Duke Casimir Varnhart, to join them for their evening meal. His presence always brought with it an air of authority that made the air grow thick with tension. But tonight, something was different.
Casimir entered, his tall, imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room. His silver hair seemed to gleam with a cold, ethereal glow as he walked with purpose. His ocean-blue eyes scanned the room before settling on his children, all of whom instinctively straightened in their chairs.
At the head of the table, Cassian, the eldest and the prodigy, sat poised and attentive. His striking silver hair and golden eyes—like his mother's—made him appear every bit the noble heir he was meant to be. To his left sat his younger siblings, each watching their father with a mix of reverence and curiosity, but no one dared speak a word. The Duke's anger from the previous night had left a palpable chill in the air, and everyone knew not to provoke him.
When the Duke reached the center of the room, he paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered children. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls.
"Tonight," Casimir began, his voice low and steady, "you will learn of a matter that should never have occurred in the first place. I am speaking of the bastard—my illegitimate child, born to a mere servant woman."
The words fell from his lips like cold stones, each one reverberating through the room. The children exchanged uneasy glances, confused and curious. Their father had never spoken of this before, and none of them had ever been allowed to acknowledge the existence of this… child.
"Orion," Casimir continued, his gaze hardening, "is a mistake. A stain on the family name that should never have been allowed to exist."
The name hung in the air like a curse, and the children remained silent, unsure of what to say or how to react. They all knew that their father was a man who valued bloodline above all else, and the idea of a child born of such a lowly origin—someone who wasn't part of their noble line—was deeply disgraceful.
"I do not care for this child," Casimir's voice grew colder, a hint of fury creeping into his tone. "And I will not have any of you acknowledging him. Not in public, and not in private. He is not one of us."
Cassian, always the eldest and most observant, spoke up first. "But father, if Orion is truly your son, should we not…?" His voice trailed off as he noticed the dangerous gleam in his father's eyes.
"No," Casimir interrupted sharply. "He is nothing. His very existence should remain a secret. If any of you are foolish enough to make the mistake of associating with him, or if I hear a word of him outside of this room, I will not hesitate to remove you from this household. You will have no place in this family."
The force behind his words left no room for argument, and Cassian fell silent, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. The rest of the children, though younger, followed his lead, quiet and still.
There was a long, tense pause as the Duke stood before them, his presence like a storm cloud looming over them all. The fire crackled softly, but in that moment, the warmth it provided felt distant and unreachable.
"You are to treat him as if he does not exist," Casimir continued, his voice now a low, commanding growl. "And you will never speak of him. If you see him, you turn the other way and forget you ever did. Understand?"
"Yes, Father," came the murmured response from each of the children, though it was clear that the weight of his words had not fully sunk in yet. They were still trying to comprehend the implications of his decree.
Orion. His name had been spoken, but none of them had ever seen him. For years, he had remained a secret, hidden away, something to be ignored and denied. To the children, this half-brother—if that's what he could be called—was nothing more than an unwanted phantom, a reminder of their father's few moments of weakness.
As the silence stretched on, the Duke's eyes swept over them once more, his gaze like a blade that cut through the tension. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Father," Cassian responded again, this time with a slight bow of his head. His golden eyes seemed cold, calculating as he processed his father's words. To him, this was simply another matter to be dealt with, another way of securing their family's legacy. The idea of Orion was something to be buried, and Cassian knew better than to question the Duke's decisions.
Casimir gave a curt nod and turned to leave the room. But before he reached the door, he stopped and turned slightly to address them once more.
"Remember," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but with a chilling undertone, "he is nothing. Do not forget that."
And with that, the Duke of Varnhart, the War Saint, left the room, his presence fading like a shadow in the night.
The children sat in stunned silence, absorbing their father's words. Orion, a brother they had never known, was nothing. Not a member of the family, not someone worthy of their attention. Just a stain on their name.
As the meal resumed, the once lively chatter of the family died down. The weight of the Duke's decree hung over them all. There was no room for weakness in the Varnhart family. No room for mistakes. And the bastard child, Orion, would remain a secret—forever forgotten.