e days after the princess's return were heavy with tension for Orion. It had been an overwhelming, yet strangely invigorating experience—seeing Princess Diana again, if only for a moment. It stirred something deep within him, a yearning for more than the life he had been forced into. A life spent in the shadows, hidden away from the world that was not meant for him. He wanted to break free. To see more than just the walls of the servant quarters. He wanted to prove that he was more than just a mistake.
It had been a thought that had plagued him for some time, but today, it felt like the right moment to act on it. Orion, now eleven years old, stood in front of the full-length mirror in his small room, trying to steady his breath. He had made up his mind—today, he would speak to the Duke.
The Varnhart estate was vast, but despite its size, it was easy for Orion to find the Duke's study. Casimir Varnhart was a man of power, an embodiment of military might, and his study was a place where no one dared enter unless invited. It was said that even the servants feared to disturb him there. But Orion, determined as ever, knew he had no choice. If he wanted something more, he had to be bold.
His mind raced as he approached the study door. His hands trembled, but he forced himself to steady his nerves. The Duke would likely reject him, as he always did. But this time, it was different. Orion wasn't asking for a handout; he wasn't asking for forgiveness. He was asking for a chance.
The door to the study loomed before him, and Orion knocked firmly. He heard the deep voice of his father, Casimir, beckon him inside. Orion hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room.
The Duke sat behind a massive oak desk, his piercing ocean-blue eyes focused on a report in front of him. His imposing figure, tall and unyielding, was as intimidating as ever. His long silver hair cascaded over his shoulders like a banner of power. He didn't even look up when Orion entered, his expression cold and unreadable.
"Speak, boy," the Duke's voice rumbled, sharp as ever. "What is it you want?"
Orion swallowed, gathering his courage. "Father, I—"
"Do not address me like that," the Duke cut him off, his tone filled with disdain. "I am not your father. I am your lord, and you are nothing more than a stain on the Varnhart name."
Orion felt the sting of the words, but he pressed on. "I wish to join the military, my Lord."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Casimir finally raised his gaze, his sharp eyes narrowing as they settled on Orion. The Duke studied him for a long moment, his face unreadable.
"Join the military?" The Duke's voice was a low growl, barely containing the fury he felt. "You, a child of a maid, a bastard, are suggesting that you join the ranks of the Varnhart army?" He chuckled bitterly, the sound harsh and cruel. "You are nothing. Do you think the soldiers would ever accept you?"
Orion's heart clenched, but he stood tall. "I can keep my identity concealed, my Lord. No one need know who I truly am. I can prove myself, just as any other soldier would."
The Duke's eyes flickered with interest, his fingers steepling together in thought. There was a long pause, and for a brief moment, Orion thought the conversation was over. That his request had been dismissed, just as he had always expected.
But then Casimir spoke, his voice softer now, though still tinged with contempt. "You think you can deceive the military, hide the truth of your origins? Do you think you can change your bloodline with a uniform?"
Orion met his father's eyes with unwavering resolve. "I do not need to change my bloodline, my Lord. I need only a chance. A chance to prove that I can be more than what you have made me."
The Duke's lips curled into a sinister smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. He was silent for a moment, and Orion could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, as though the very room itself were holding its breath.
Casimir leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the wooden desk. "You do not understand, do you?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You are a mistake, a blemish. Nothing you do will ever change that. And yet…" He paused, studying Orion as though weighing his options. "Perhaps this could be an opportunity. If you join the military and disappear into the ranks, no one will ever know who you truly are. And if you prove useful… well, maybe I'll consider keeping you alive."
Orion's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected this response, not at all. The Duke was intrigued—perhaps even calculating how to use Orion for his own gain. Orion didn't care. He had been dismissed, abandoned, and belittled for too long. This was his chance. His opportunity to break free.
"I will prove myself," Orion said, his voice steady. "I will not fail you."
The Duke's gaze hardened once again. "Do not mistake this for kindness. You are nothing more than a tool. A weapon to be used." He paused, his expression cold. "And if you fail, I will erase you as if you were never born. Understand?"
Orion nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He had expected nothing less. "I understand."
The Duke's eyes gleamed with cold calculation. "Very well. Prepare yourself. The training begins tomorrow."
As Orion turned to leave, he could feel the weight of the Duke's words pressing down on him. This was his chance, and there was no turning back now. He would either prove his worth or be discarded once more. But for the first time in his life, Orion felt something stir within him—determination. He wasn't just a mistake anymore. He had a purpose.
And he would do whatever it took to make sure that purpose was fulfilled.