I knelt before the crude grave marker, my fingers tracing the word "Mother" carved into the stone. My silence, like the grave itself, was my constant companion. The world spoke around me, but I had no voice to answer. Not anymore. It wasn't much—just a patch of dirt surrounded by a few small rocks, with this single slab marking its significance. But it was all I could manage, and it was all she had. My mother deserved better, but in this cruel world, better was reserved for those with power, wealth, or influence—ironically, all things I should have had as the son of the Baron of Würzburg. But I was only a bastard, and that sealed my fate. For now, I am still the sole heir, but my stepmother has done everything in her power to ensure that even this tenuous claim will soon be stripped from me.
My childhood was cruel, though it wasn't entirely without light. When my mother was alive, there was at least a glimmer of hope on the horizon. She fled the estate as soon as she discovered her pregnancy, terrified of the consequences she might face. She hadn't wanted to be pregnant, but such was the fate of a beautiful woman in this world. I was lucky to inherit her looks—light brown hair and dark eyes. Thankfully, I bore no resemblance to the man I despised.
She used to tell me stories about a distant land where the sun was always warm, and people danced and laughed with joy. Spain, she called it. Apparently, that was her home, though she never shared how she ended up here, so far from it. At 165 centimeters, I'm shorter than most men—perhaps because of the countless days I went without food, or perhaps because my mother was petite herself. Still, I take pride in my heritage and the quiet strength she passed down to me.
The faded blue fabric of my tunic pulled tight against my shoulders as I adjusted my posture. It was a noble's garment, meant to symbolize prestige, but it didn't fit anymore. It hadn't for years. The seams strained, the dye had faded, and there were tears along the edges where the threads had unraveled. Once, this tunic had been new and bright, a gift from my father—though even then it was a begrudging offering, not an act of love. Now, it served as a reminder of how little I belonged to either world. Too noble for the peasants, too base for the aristocracy.
My thoughts wandered, as they often did, into the endless abyss of despair that consumed my mind. Life had long since lost its purpose. Each day blend into the next: I woke, I endured, and I returned to this grave. How I longed to lie here beside my mother. I sighed. The only reason I clung to this hollow existence was her final wish, the chain that bound me to life.
"Friedrich, promise me," she had whispered, her voice frail as she lay dying. "Live. No matter how hard it gets, live. That is my wish for you."
Her wish, the only thing tethering me to this miserable existence. The weight of it crushed me more than any of Eberhart's abuses or his wife's scorn. They had tried to break me, and in many ways they had succeeded, but this promise… this was a chain I could not sever.
But what was my life still worth? Contrary to the rumors, I am not mute by birth or became mute because of all the abuse I had to endure. My tongue was cut out, my manhood taken from me as well. It happened on a day of heavy rain, as I was making my way back to the castle from the graveyard. Suddenly, five men ambushed me, throwing a sack over my head before dragging me away to torture me. They held me responsible for all the wrongdoings and decisions of my father. They could never have kidnapped him—he is always surrounded by a dozen knights. But me? I am insignificant.
I heard footsteps behind me and tensed instinctively. My hand moved to my side, though I had no weapon. I didn't need to look to know they were approaching me. Strangers. No one in this cursed city came near me unless they wanted something. My reputation as Eberhart's bastard had ensured that. Even without words, I could feel their intention, the weight of their curiosity pressing down like a question unspoken.
The man's voice reached me, calm but firm. "Are you Friedrich?" I didn't answer, only turning my head slightly to regard them with wary eyes. The truth, after all, needed no words.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to glance at them over my shoulder. A man and a woman stood there, their clothing practical but of decent quality—travelers, perhaps. The man's eyes were sharp, assessing me with a mix of curiosity and calculation. The woman stood slightly behind him, her posture relaxed but her gaze just as piercing.
I didn't respond. Suspicion was second nature to me. Too many times had someone feigned kindness only to reveal cruelty.
The man stepped forward, his movements measured. "We heard about you in the city," he said. "The bastard son of Eberhart, mute since childhood." His words cut deeper than he could know, but I offered no reaction beyond a cold, steady gaze.
I frowned. It wasn't the first time someone had remarked on that. I met their gaze in silence, my distrust clear. People liked to talk, but they never truly understood.
The woman exchanged a glance with the man, and then she spoke. "We're looking for information," she said. "About Eberhart. About this city. And about you."
I let out a bitter laugh internally, though my silence was all they received. My hand brushed the grave's marker, a silent dismissal of their intrusion. If they were smart, they'd leave. What could I offer them, trapped as I was in a life of misery.
The man, however, seemed undeterred. "I'm Heimrich," he said, his tone steady and deliberate. "This is Anna. We aren't here to cause you trouble. We want to understand. Can you nod if you're willing to answer a few questions?"
I hesitated, my gaze shifting between them. Finally, I gave a slow nod, though my mistrust remained evident.
Heimrich studied me carefully before continuing. "Are you satisfied with your life?" His question lingered, heavy with implication.
Satisfied? The word seemed absurd, almost laughable. I shook my head slowly, the bitterness in my heart rising like bile.
Heimrich's expression darkened, his calculating gaze sharpening. "Do you wish to see Eberhart and your stepmother dead?" he asked, his voice calm but weighted.
For the first time, my body tensed. The question hung in the air, stark and unrelenting. My hand tightened on the grave marker as I stared at them, my answer clear without any movement. Heimrich's lips curled into the faintest of smiles, as though he already knew what my silence meant.
"I can give you what you truly desire," Heimrich said, his voice calm but laced with a conviction that made my stomach churn. His words hung in the air, a strange blend of promise and threat.
I narrowed my eyes, my skepticism rising. My life had taught me that promises were rarely kept, and help always came with a price. But something about Heimrich—the steadiness in his gaze, the measured tone of his words—made me pause. Today, for reasons I couldn't quite explain, I felt a crack in the armor of my mistrust.
What did I have to lose? I had already been stripped of everything that mattered.
Slowly, I gave him a single nod, my wariness still palpable but tempered by an odd sense of resignation. If this man was lying, it would make no difference. My life was already forfeit.
Heimrich's smile widened, almost imperceptibly, as though he had anticipated my decision all along. Then he extended his hand toward me, his eyes locking onto mine with unsettling certainty. "Take my hand," he said, his voice calm yet commanding. "This is a pact—a vow of eternal loyalty. You will belong to me, body, mind and soul."
I hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. For a moment, it felt as though the ground beneath me shifted, as though accepting this gesture would bind me to something far greater than I could yet comprehend. It was like sealing a deal with the devil. But what did it matter?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anna. Her expression was faintly amused, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, as if she was recalling her own moment of submission to this man. Somehow, it reassured me—not because her situation was any better, but because I wasn't alone in this.
With a deep breath, I reached out and took his hand. A chill ran through me, and a strange weight settled in my chest. In that moment, I knew: this decision would change my life and my future forever.