The house was silent when Arthur and the knight arrived, its stone walls tall and watchful, as though it had been expecting him. Inside, the atmosphere was strangely calm..too calm for a place where he had been led to believe answers awaited him.

Arthur was amazed all through the way they entered the house. This was the first time he entered a place as majestic as this. He was amused and kept looking around until he met the family he was forced to meet.

The family sat together, a picture of noble composure. At the head, the Lord of the house leaned back with the weight of authority, his sharp eyes betraying little. Beside him, the Lady held her chin high, her smirk subtle but cutting. Three others: two grown sons and a daughter barely out of her teens watched with curiosity, their eyes flickering between Arthur and their parents.

Arthur did not waver. He noted at once that these were no law enforcers, but men of the crown. Something about their presence made his stomach rattle.

A servant pulled out a chair for him different from the ones the family used, smaller, a place apart. Arthur sat, his expression guarded.

His mind was not totally in the house,he wanted to be out of their as soon as he could, but he was not too confident he could leave there as he wished.

However, he kept his thoughts well hidden to himself. The moment he stepped in, he could tell right away the powers and magic this family held.

But what he could tell was why they summoned him and not the law enforcers.

The Lord’s voice cut through the quiet. “We will not waste time with pleasantries,” he said, his tone low, almost grave. “You carry power. Magic. We sense it. We know it. You are no ordinary man, Arthur.”

The Lady leaned forward, her smirk deepening. “You are our long-lost son. The blood you carry belongs to this house. And now… it is time the public knows the truth.”

Arthur blinked once, then laughed dryly, the sound sharp in the silence. He scoffed as though they had spoken madness. His jaw tightened. “Nonsense,” he muttered. He searched their faces, reasoning, trying to find meaning in their claim…but found only conviction.

Why couldn't Arthur bring himself to believe the lady? He was an orphan after all, and his magic could be as a result of the family he came from. But he couldn't believe it. Does Arthur know something no one else did?

He stood abruptly, bowing his head just slightly, out of habit more than respect. “Forgive me. But I must go. My children are waiting for me.”

He turned toward the door. Behind him, the sons exchanged glances with each other, their eyes narrowing in curiosity. The daughter tilted her head, studying him. Yet none of them rose, none of them moved to stop him.

The silence stretched until the Lady’s voice rang out, clear and deliberate. “If you walk out of this house, you walk into death,” she said. “Not only your own…but that of those innocent children you claim to protect.”

Arthur froze, his hand hovering near the door. For a moment, his back was all they could see, his shoulders tense, his frame outlined against the faint light seeping through the doorframe.

His mind spun. Her words struck deeper than he cared to admit. The children. The law enforcers. The rebellion. Every choice he made was no longer just his own.

The seconds dragged on. Then, slowly, with a steadiness that belied the storm within him, Arthur turned back. His face was calm now, but his eyes carried fire. He walked to the chair he had abandoned and sat again, straighter this time, his presence commanding.

His gaze locked onto the Lord’s. “Very well,” Arthur said, his voice firm. “What do you have for me?”

Arthur made the right choice, but his choice could endanger his life the same way his life would be endangered if he doesn't agree.

******

Three days after

The morning dragged like a punishment. Emmeline sat against the cold wall, the children huddled around her, their voices growing weaker yet more insistent as they pleaded for food. Seven pairs of eyes, too bright for such a grim place, fixed on her with the same question: When will they feed us?

Her lips tightened. She had no answer. Every cry stabbed deeper into her chest. She closed her eyes, whispering prayers in silence, until the heavy clang of metal startled her.

The prison guard arrived. His armor scraped against stone as he stepped forward, keys jingling at his side. Without a word, he unlocked the cell and swung the gate open. “Out,” he barked.

The children clung to Emmeline’s skirts. She hesitated, her heart torn. She was not their mother, not even their kin~~yet how could she abandon them here?

With trembling resolve, she gathered them up and led them through the streets, their small hands clasped in hers. Passersby stared, some with pity, others with suspicion, but no one offered help.

At last, she reached her parents’ home. The old door creaked as it opened, and her mother gasped at the sight of her, bruised, dirtied, with seven hungry children trailing behind.

Without questions, her parents welcomed them in. The children were washed, clothed, and set before steaming bowls of stew. Their laughter returned in little bursts, and for the first time in days, Emmeline felt her shoulders relax after days of being locked up with the children.

But relief was fleeting. She could not stay. She kissed each child’s head softly, promising silently that they would be safe here, and then turned away before her parents could press her with questions.

The streets narrowed and grew darker as she made her way to the place she dreaded..the rebellion’s hidden dwelling. She pushed past the guarded entry and into the shadowed hall where the leader waited.

He rose as soon as he saw her. His hand came down sharply across her cheek before she could even speak. The crack echoed in the chamber.

“You lost him.” His voice was like ice.

Her head snapped to the side, hair falling across her burning cheek. Tears stung her eyes, but she swallowed them back. “Sir Bruce I—”

“Silence!” he thundered, his shadow falling over her. “You speak of professionalism, yet instead of fulfilling your mission, you get yourself locked away with children?” His tone dripped with disdain.

Emmeline bit her lip hard, tasting iron. She lowered her gaze, shame wrapping around her like chains.

Bruce paced before her, his fury simmering. “Do you think I had you released so you could become worthless? Do you?”

She shook her head, but dared not look up.

“He has been taken in by a high-ranking house,” Bruce said, his eyes narrowing. “Do you understand what this means? He is no longer a man wandering in the shadows..he is a weapon they will parade before the world. And you—” he leaned closer, voice low and sharp as a dagger, “you will go back. You will crawl into that society and you will not fail again. You will succeed in scouting him for us. At any cost.”

The weight of his command pressed down on her chest. Emmeline’s cheek still burned, her pride in tatters, but her resolve hardened beneath it. She bowed her head, whispering the only words she could:

“Yes, my lord.”

Emmeline just agreed to crawl back into her horrible past without validation. Will she survive?