A dangerous and filthy lie is prevalent throughout the land of Ralium. Nobles and Kings would have their subject believe that the kingdom resting in a time of peace. They say there is no war. No attacks. That there is no death, yet within this suppo...
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The sounds of ruffling papers and scrolls filled William with dread. He stood in the corner of the room, with his face barely illuminated from the faint light of the fireplace. With his arms behind his back, he clutched his wrist. Breathing was almost unbearable, as his chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself. His mouth felt like a desert, dry and coarse on his throat.
His father, Lorcan Underhill, placed some documents within the drawer of his desk. Taking a small stick, he held it over the fire to light it and held it over the candle. He rubbed his face, ruffling his thick black beard. A strand of his dark hair fell near his face. Around his eyes, he had a heavy set of crows feet wrinkles, as well as his mouth but it was covered by his beard. William was always told that when his father was younger, he looked a lot like William and Zaydn.
Brushing the loose strand back into his slick back hair, William's father adjusted the collar of his tunic. Will remained patient and ensured he wore his long, black tunic, with a vest that had half of the side maroon and the other half black, as a means of pleasing his father with proper noble attire. On the maroon side was a small patch with a sparrow around a silver border.
His father sat down at his desk, placing his elbows on the edge and resting his face on his thumbs. With the movement of his fingers, William was now allowed to step up to his desk.
"Thank you for being patient. After all, you knew I needed to sort those files before I began," Lorcan said.
His hands wrapped around the wooden pipe on his desk. After opening a small box, he picked leaves and stuffed them at the end of the pipe. Using a thin piece of wood, he used the flame from the nearby candle to light the stick and hovered it over the leaves in the pipe. It did not take long for the dried leaves to take light, allowing for a small stream of smoke to rise from the small pipe. He brought the end of the pipe to his lips and sucked in the smoke.
"I have a few things I wish to discuss with you that's a matter of...urgency," Lorcan said while smoke spilled from his lips. William's body tensed at his father's words, and he squeezed his wrist and clenched his teeth before daring to show it. "However, you requested to speak to me first so I will save those matters until we are finished with your concerns first."
"I know I've asked this before," William began. "But, I must insist on asking why I must be the one to marry Valorah? Would it not make more sense to marry her to Zaydn?"
William swallowed the lump in his throat, watching as his father's cold eyes pierced right through him. The faint light of the burning leaves lit his eyes just briefly. Lorcan leaned back in his desk chair, raising his head as he blew out the smoke. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lowered his head once more. William's nose scrunched at the smell of the leaves, which was soon followed by a slow-building headache.
"Will, we've already talked about this. Do you not remember telling me you would never speak of this again?" Lorcan questioned. He lifted his quill from the desk and dipped it into the inkpot. The scratching sounds against the parchment in the silent room was enough to drive Willam mad
