Chapter 50: Truth?
[Around midnight]
Inside the quiet room reserved for the two boys, one of the beds was already claimed. Kevin lay sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. He had eaten well at the palace—perhaps a little too well—and it showed in the way he drifted into deep, peaceful slumber.
The other bed, however, remained untouched. A faint breeze slipped through the slightly open window.
Far from the warmth of the inn, in a small, secluded garden surrounded by high stone walls, Arthur stood alone, facing a weather-worn tombstone.
The once-grey stone was smeared with mud, splattered with rotten eggs, and stamped with footprints. It was more of an insult than a monument now.
This grave, though should’ve been sacred by nature, held no reverence.
It was despised.
And rightfully so, at least in the eyes of the people.
Arthur stared at it in silence, emotions swirling inside him in ways he hadn’t expected. For someone who thought himself long detached from the past, the ache in his chest told a different story.
Even after a thousand years, the hatred hadn’t faded.
The marks were fresh. The spit, the filth, the bitter footprints—they hadn’t been there for long. Someone still visited... but not with flowers.