《Child of Sin》


 Chapter 1

    Leaning against a broad oak beam where he remained hidden from the crowd, Alan observed the heated duel between Dwayne and Hardy with a touch of envy. The two fighters displayed remarkable skill and strength in their fast-paced exchange. Hardy, caught up in the excitement, bit his lip and moved energetically in a circle, his eyes ablaze as he deftly shifted sideways, effortlessly transitioning his sword from one hand to the other.


    As Dwayne thrust forward, aiming for an unprotected area of his opponent''s legs, Hardy joyfully leaped. His sword hand soared through the air, swiftly finding its place at Duane''s throat before he could step back,. The spectators and fellow fighters surrounding them erupted in cheers, celebrating Hardy''s triumph. With a good-natured gesture, Hardy patted Dwayne on the shoulder and handed his sword and shield to another eager participant.


    Alan sighed dreamily, picturing himself in Hardy''s position¡ªstrong, masculine, beaming with joy. He slouched back and glanced at his hands, which, despite his futile efforts, remained too slender to transform him into a revered warrior like Hardy and Dwayne. Shifting his gaze to where Hardy and Dwayne shared laughter, he observed the new recruits engaging in combat, only to recoil at the taunting whisper in his ear.


    ¡°Are you jealous, Al?¡± Melissa inquired, her smile betraying satisfaction with the impact of her words. She tightly held his hand, preventing his customary escape. With a contemptuous squint of her amber eyes at his saddened expression, she added a venomous remark, "You''ll never measure up to Dwayne, let alone Hardy. It''s not just because you were born weak, silly, but also because you''re a worthless bastard. Even though my father bestowed upon you a family name, you''re still an aimless seed destined for nothing good in life¡ªneither family happiness nor battlefield glory¡ªsince no one will take you under their wing."


    ¡°So what?¡± Alan snapped, withdrawing his hand in a burst of irritation. ¡°Why do you even care about my life?¡±


    ¡°I don''t," Melissa admitted, smirking. ¡°It''s just that you''re a bothersome eyesore, a disgrace to our family. If it were up to me, I''d toss you out onto the street to beg. Too bad my mother is so kind. When I marry Hardy and become princess, then queen, I''ll have you thrown out from my father''s house and banish you from Arania altogether.


    ¡°If you ever manage to marry Hardy," Alan emphasized the word "if" with a mocking tone, and Melissa hissed like an angered snake, forcefully pushing him out into the arena and proclaiming loudly, "Alan wants to fight!¡±


    Alan instinctively stepped back but then forced himself to make a step forward, standing tall with pride. Rick, Hardy''s usually calm and amiable friend, shook his head disapprovingly. Meanwhile, Hardy grinned in amazement, leisurely measuring Alan from head to toe. He then gestured authoritatively to his other friend, Mile, signaling for his practice sword. Mile responded with a cheerful grin, shooting a glare at the frowning Alan, and asked, ¡°Why you, Hardy? It''s my turn now.¡±


    ¡°Because I am your future king, Mile. Hurry up!¡± Hardy impatiently took the sword from him, attached a wooden shield to his left arm, and nodded to Dwayne''s friend, Arthur. ¡°Give him the sword.¡±


    Alan slipped his left hand into the sweat-soaked leather grip of his shield, gripped the weighty sword with his right hand, and entered the trampled arena, assuming the taught stance. Hardy, wearing a smug grin, awaited Alan to start, neglecting to shield his body, evidently rating Alan''s fighting prowess as low awhile the spectators around them laughed. Pale and seething with fury due to the humiliation, Alan lunged, thrusting his sword toward the exposed stomach of his adversary. Hardy effortlessly parried, maintaining a lazy demeanor and a mocking smile, which only increased Alan''s hatred for him.


    Hardy circled Alan like a leisurely predator, effortlessly deflecting his clumsy blows. The green glint in his eyes and the white-toothed grin only served to further irritate Alan. Driven by his anger, Alan attacked with increasing speed, embodying a demonic fervor against the tormentor who, like others, had relegated him to the lowest rung of the hierarchy. Alan''s heart raced, sweat streamed down his face, and his limbs trembled with exhaustion, yet he persisted, barely catching his breath before launching another strike. Suddenly, Hardy knocked his sword out of his hand, grabbed his arm, spun him around, and held the sword to his throat, whispering, "I''ve won, my princess."


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    "You''re the princess!" Alan exclaimed, pushing aside the edge of the intentionally dulled training sword, though the sharp thrust still left a painful cut on his palm. He tightly pressed his lips together, suppressing the urge to cry in front of the spectators. Dismissing the jeering spectators, he hurried for the stairs leading upstairs, catching a glimpse of Melissa laughing triumphantly on the way. Hardy chased after him, grabbed his arm, compelling him to halt, and inquired coldly, "You lost in a fair fight, why are you mad?"


    "Screw you, your future majesty," Alan spat, wrenching his arm free and hastening to his room, the first tears tracing down his cheeks.


    Alan remained sequestered in his room until the king and his court departed the castle. Occasionally, he gazed out of the window, observing his brother and sister enjoying themselves in the courtyard with the prince and their well-off friends. They were all attractive, robust, self-important individuals, blessed with prestigious ranks and family names from birth, destined for success and a joyous life¡ªunlike him. There was no trace of envy for them; instead, a profound sorrow and anger enveloped him at his fate, which had dealt him such a cruel hand. He should have been left in distant Hannia, growing up among fellow outcasts and sharing their equality, rather than enduring a lifetime as a lonely outcast surrounded by superiors.


    A couple of times, Rick softly knocked on his door, inviting him to festive dinners and subsequent dances. Alan, pressed against the door, listened to Rick''s gentle voice but remained silent¡ªbeing ridiculed again was the last thing he desired after the failed fight. His father also visited a few times, casting understanding glances and choosing his words carefully, encouraging Alan to join the festivities. However, Alan stubbornly shook his head, refusing. For the second time, he added grimly, "You shouldn''t have brought me here, father. I would have been better suited to Hannia; I even resemble the Hannians, and there, I wouldn''t feel like a fish out of water."


    "Don''t say that, Alan," his father tensed at the words and moved closer, affectionately ruffling Alan''s hair. Alan felt both surprised and touched by this display, knowing that his father wasn''t typically generous with signs of affection. "Someday, you''ll come to realize that you belong here, trust me. If you don''t want to go out, you can stay in the chambers. Though the prince assured me he didn''t mean to offend you."


    "Yeah, sure, only to humiliate," Alan pressed his lips angrily, recalling the incident with the "princess." He then added quietly, "When I come of age, father, I want to go to Scientinium to become a healer."


    "When you grow older, your wishes may change," his father said calmly. "You ought to get used to the cruelty of others, Alan. Life is not a honey pot, and not everyone is kind. Once you accept this reality, living will become easier."


    "It''ll be even easier when they stop treating me like a piece of crap," Alan argued bitterly, raising his eyes to his father. "Why don''t you realize that I, too, desire the respect and recognition that your legitimate children receive effortlessly If I become a healer, I''ll earn that respect."


    "We''ll talk when you''re older," his father sighed heavily, making his way towards the exit.


    They never had a second chance to discuss his future.


    Four years later, his father and the king became victims of a brutal rebellion. Prince Hardy, now King Hardy, ruthlessly quelled the rebels with the same severity. The proclamation of "the king is dead, long live the king" signaled the beginning of a harsh wave of repression that swept through the country, eradicating those who had aligned with the rebels. Alan, bewildered and engulfed by grief, scarcely reacted to the cries emanating from others in the house. He remained impervious to the anxious whispers of relatives and the howling of his stepmother.


    The one person who loved him, who held the most significance in his life, had passed away, leaving him to confront the harsh world alone. Nothing else stirred within him, nothing else touched his heart, except the profound and all-encompassing sorrow for his father and those warm brown eyes adorned with wrinkles. Seemed like the world has come to an end.

 Chapter 2

    Dwayne returned home, visibly grim and charged with profound tension, bringing back his father''s lifeless body. His arrival plunged the house into an even more frenzied panic, with urgent orders to swiftly pack the most valuable belongings for departure. There was no time for the family to conduct the customary seven days of mourning and bury his father properly. Alan, being considered an outsider, found himself confined to his room¡ªthe last sanctuary of their previous life, spared from the chaos of hurried packing.


    He paced back and forth between his room and the tomb, alone in front of his father''s stone coffin. There, he lit a candle tirelessly replacing it with a fresh one each time the previous one had burned down to the last drop of wax. Silently, he wept alongside the flame, not even realizing that he was shedding tears in solitude.


    Melissa howled terribly, cursing Dwayne incomprehensibly for something that Alan had no idea about, lunging at Dwayne with her fists frantically, being thrown back by him carelessly. The stepmother, as Alan slipped back into her room unnoticed by the shadow, sat mournfully in the chair beside her husband''s empty chair, staring at her trembling hands. Alan squinted indifferently at all of them, still desperately full of life despite the loss, oblivious to the passing of a beloved family member. Alan crinkled his nose in disgust, hoping his father''s spirit didn''t see it. Something was in the air, stirring the atmosphere, threatening to bring great change, and Alan waited indifferently, forgetting in his grief his dream to leave.


    He missed the opportunity to fulfill his dream - the massive doors of their fortress were breached with a battering ram, and the courtyard was flooded with reckless horsemen led by King Hardy, whose green eyes squinting hard. Hardy looked grimly at the soldiers, who dropped their weapons obediently before him in surrender, and ordered:


    ¡°Throne traitor Dwayne Lear to me! And bring the rest of the Lears.¡±


    The bloody Dwayne was dragged out by four men, he did not give up easily, resisting until the end, and looked with angry eyes at his sire and former friend, not even denying his guilt. Alan, who had come out perplexed at the noise, clenched his fist with a bunch of red memorial candles to his mouth, seeing, and staggered toward his chambers to draw his father''s lighter-than-usual sword, forged especially for his hand, but not before king¡¯s guards were rattling up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, intent on pulling him out with his stepmother and sister. He was seized at the door and dragged downstairs to the king''s judgment.


    Melissa rushed out on her own, folding her hands in a pleading gesture as she cast imploring looks at Hardy. He had been her frequent dance partner at balls, and she had relied on his mercy and reciprocity until her elder brother betrayed the king.


    "Your Majesty, have mercy!" Melissa exclaimed, throwing herself to her knees and carelessly scattering her lush silk skirts. "We knew nothing, Dwayne acted alone!"


    "Be quiet, silly!" the stepmother intervened, grasping Melissa''s hand, silencing her with a firm hold, and then humbly bowing to the king. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Could you please inform us of the accusations against my son?"


    "He is accused of organizing a rebellion against my father, our king, and of murdering my father," Hardy declared coldly, staring at him sternly and reproachfully. "Your son, Amanda, was planning to sit on the throne in my place, and for that, he will be punished along with the rest of your family."


    "No, I beg you, no," the stepmother pleaded, releasing her daughter and sinking to her knees. "Let him live, please, he is my only son! Take away all our lands and possessions, and we will go into exile immediately, never to return."


    "I''ll take your lands and possessions anyway," Hardy said with a frustrated expression as his stepmother and Melissa shrieked in unison, "Quiet!" He continued, "Your daughter and stepson will be prosecuted by court in memory of your husband, and you, Amanda, will live out your days in the castle for failing to raise your son in obedience to the throne. Dwayne will be executed."


    Alan blinked in surprise ¨C why him? He wasn''t a true Lear, just a Hannian bastard. Yet, he accepted his fate instantly, refusing to plead for mercy. He wouldn''t dishonor his father''s memory with pleas; he would endure the agony with dignity. Just as he hadn''t cried in front of Hardy for years ago, he wouldn''t shed tears now. He straightened up with icy dignity, recognizing that he was about to endure the ultimate humiliation- the king might be lenient to the beautiful Melissa, but not to him, the bastard.


    Hardy removed his bassinet, tousled his sweaty red hair, cast a mocking glance over his inscrutable face, seemingly reading Alan''s thoughts, and then nodded to Rick. Alan hadn''t seen Rick since their last encounter four years ago. Rick dismounted from this horse, briefly acknowledging Alan with a glance, took him by the elbow, and guided him to a carriage. Meanwhile, Melissa was directed towards another carriage, prompting a sigh of relief from Alan as he realized he wouldn''t have to endure her venomous remarks during the journey.


    Alan arched his eyebrows in astonishment at the opulent adornments of the carriage. He hesitated, considering if Rick had made a mistake, but a gentle nudge from Rick prompted him to enter, and Rick closed the door from the back with a latch. Alan grinned wryly¡ªluxury might deceive, but a cage remained a cage. He sat down on the cushions with a sense of inevitability.


    The two weeks to the palace proved torturous for Alan. He suffered from motion seasickness to the point of vomiting into the night pot left behind, gasping for breath in the nauseating odor. At stops, he stumbled out, exhausted, desperately inhaling fresh air. Lifted from the ground, he was forced into inns, seated beside the king and Rick, who had assumed the role of the king''s right-hand man, filling the void left by Alan''s late father. Before Alan was placed a coarse meal that turned Alan''s stomach. He nibbled on bits of bread and drank only the soup and ale, which offered slight relief to his upset stomach. Hardy looked at him irritably, pursing his lips, scrutinizing his every move. It was evident that Hardy couldn''t comprehend why he was providing sustenance for the bastard at his own expense. Alan set his spoon aside under the intense scrutiny of the king''s eyes, his expression becoming guarded.


    "Why aren''t you eating?" Hardy exhaled on the third day of their journey during the lunch, pulling Alan towards him by the chest and exhaling the scent of ale into the face. "Still as arrogant as ever, eh?"


    "No, your majesty," Alan replied dryly, making no attempt to free himself, and staring coldly at Hardy. Hardy grunted, released him, and Rick slid a clay bowl of chowder towards him, whispering,


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    "Are you not accustomed to this kind of food? Still feeling nauseous?"


    "Tender as a princess," Hardy laughed, his eyes sparkling with merriment. His entourage immediately burst into laughter, cheering the king''s joke, much to Alan''s chagrin as he turned away. Rick was the only one who didn''t join in the laughter, casting a reproachful glance at the king, for which Alan felt immense gratitude.


    To spare himself the embarrassment of vomiting for everyone''s amusement, Alan refrained from consuming the coarse inn food. Instead, he opted for bread and ale mixed with water. Upon exiting, he discreetly approached the innkeeper, requesting some fruit. Chewing on sour apples or dried apricots helped alleviate his nausea. Someone took notice, and now his carriage was consistently stocked with fruit and a jug of watered-down ale. Alan smiled warmly, comforted by the thought that he wouldn''t be alone at court - Rick could be his friend. He regarded good-natured Rick with warmth and trust, occasionally sharing a furtive smile when the irritable Hardy wasn''t looking.


    Hardy frequently was in an irritable mood, as evidently, the crown was not an easy burden. Executing subjects on the way home seemed to pose some difficulty even for him. His frustration peaked when exhausted Alan couldn''t muster the strength to leave the carriage for the next meal one day. Hardy climbed into the carriage leaned over Alan''s pale face, and hissed:


    "You''re doing this on purpose, aren''t you? Seeking revenge for Dwayne? I am not going to let you do that!" He yanked Alan out of the wagon, gripping him by his belt and pushing away the soldiers who rushed to help. Dragging him to the inn, he ordered, "Prepare something light. Perhaps some broth, like for a woman in labor," and unexpectedly softened. Supporting Alan as he settled onto the table, shivering violently, Hardy exclaimed, "Get a healer! He''s not well."


    Alan endured the remainder of the journey confined to the carriage with the healer tending to him, changing compresses on his fevered forehead. The incessant shaking blurred the distinction between day and night, and he harbored a glimmer of hope that he might succumb to the ailment, providing delight to Hardy and Melissa. Yet, against his wish, he did not succumb, and he had no recollection of being transported into the palace. Tossed about in the sweltering heat for a few more days, he opened his eyes with a wistful expression when he felt a bit better.


    Surveying the room languidly, he noted with absent-minded awareness that the palace even provided sumptuous quarters for prisoners. And fell deeply asleep, free from the grip of fever. Upon awakening, he realized that he was being gently bathed. Ashamed Alan tried to cover himself. And a stoutly built servant kindly removed Alan''s hands, saying reassuringly:


    "Why, sir, you need not be ashamed of me. I will serve you. My name is Zack."


    Alan bashfully shielded his flushed face with his palms, allowing Zack to complete his ablutions and dress in his nightgown. It was only when Zack placed a tray of chicken soup on his lap that he inquired politely:


    "Where''s my sister? Was¡­ Was Dwayne executed?"


    "Yes, Dwayne Lear was executed, sir," Zack tilted his head slightly, folding his large, veined arms. "Your sister resides at the palace, much like yourself. She seems to have forgotten her sorrows and even attended the first ball thrown by the king. Your stepmother was ordered to stay in the family castle, and, in recognition of your father''s memory, King Hardy has refrained from confiscating the property; he is truly fair. However, he has forbidden her from visiting the palace, having found evidence that she was aware of everything and supported her son."


    "I see," Alan stood stunned over the steaming plate. "What''s going to happen to me?"


    "You''ll be fine, you weren¡¯t involved," Zack reassured him, placing a spoon in his hand. "Please eat. His Majesty wants you to recover fast."


    "Why?" Alan obediently scooped up the soup, looking at it thoughtfully. He pondered whether it was worth eating, or perhaps it was better to let hunger finish what the illness had started. He had always been too frail and sickly for this land, and nobody would think he deliberately clung to life. Why endure being a laughingstock in the palace when there was already enough mockery in his own home? He spoke quietly, "Can''t I eat alone please?"


    "Yes, of course, sir," Zack bowed and headed toward the exit. "The healer will be here soon; he always comes at this time of the day.¡±


    Alan nodded, patiently waiting for Zack to leave. He moved with difficulty to the window, there he discarded the soup and merely made his way back to the bed. With trembling hands, he placed the empty plate on the table and lay down, smiling absent-mindedly. "So, King Hardy, you won''t be able to mock me."


    The healer examined him, left a decoction on the table, and much like the soup, the decoction met a similar fate. Alan fell asleep with a proud smile, content with his decision.


    In the morning, Hardy entered the bedroom in horse riding clothes, carrying the scent of horse sweat and fresh wind. He grinned as Alan pulled the blanket up to his nose and greeted him with a faint hello, resenting being caught in his nightgown. Hardy flopped down on the bed, peering into Alan''s bleary eyes. He tugged at a strand of hair that had curled into a tight lock after washing and said with a smile:


    "Well, hello. You''re looking better, Alan. I hope you get better soon. I was afraid you were going to die on the road, given how delicate you are."


    Alan pressed his lips together in anger, staring down at his hands and feeling ashamed of his frail health. Hardy, waiting for a response, tugged at a strand of hair, forcing Alan to look up. Alan''s eyes flicked up fiercely, causing Hardy to suddenly darken. He released the strand from his fingers, stood up, and cut the conversation short:


    "Get well soon."


    Rick followed him in an hour with a juicy peach, placing it on Alan''s pillow and sitting down on the bed, looking friendly.


    "Don''t worry about your fate, Alan. You''ll be better off here than at home. Trust me. Your sister is already enjoying life; it''s time for you to enjoy it too. Let your father go to the world of the dead. Think of yourself."


    Alan smiled trustingly, feeling warmth in his heart from Rick''s concern. He couldn''t refuse the sincere offering and ate the peach in front of Rick.


    Three days later, alarm bells rang when Alan, despite the healer''s prognosis, showed no signs of improvement in his health. He slept throughout the day, growing increasingly weak. Zack nervously scurried around him, uncertain about what was happening, muttering a monotonous prayer. On the fourth day, Hardy rushed in with another healer, pushing him towards Alan.


    "What''s the matter with him? Get him on his feet at last!"


    The healer hurried fearfully to Alan, feeling his neck, examining his face, and throwing away the blanket to pull up his nightgown. However, Alan clutched at the blanket with all his might, resisting to be naked in front of Hardy. Hardy scowled and turned away, muttering:


    "I''m not looking at you, Princess!"


    The healer effortlessly lifted Alan¡¯s nightgown, examined his abdomen and chest, asked him to open his mouth and stick out his tongue. After the examination, the healer exclaimed joyfully:


    "His tongue has a white plaque on it! And his belly has sunken to the ridge. It''s a hunger strike, Your Majesty."


    Hardy turned abruptly, roared in frenzy, rushed to Alan, who was adjusting nervously his nightgown, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him:


    "If you won''t eat on your own, you''ll be force-fed! Your stubbornness is infuriating! I won''t let you die; do you understand?"


    Alan responded with a defiant gaze, refraining from uttering a word. Hardy lowered him back onto the pillows and signaled to Zack:


    "Feed him by force if necessary. If he doesn''t get up in a week, you''re dead!"


    Reluctantly, Alan had to eat to avoid causing trouble for poor Zack, who looked down with resentment, quietly grumbling that some people didn''t appreciate the benevolence of the fair king and made him worry, as if he didn''t have enough concerns. Rick, who visited after Hardy, shook his head disapprovingly and, without even taking a seat, said solemnly:


    "You shouldn''t resist, Alan. Everyone only wants what''s best for you. Don''t harm yourself."


    The following morning, Alan discovered an elegant gold bookmark adorned with a large ruby on his pillow, staring at it in surprise. When asked, who brought it, Zack merely shrugged.


    "It''s common for nobles to exchange gifts."

 Chapter 3

    Anonymous gifts continued to arrive daily, pleasing the eye with their exquisite craftsmanship and warming the heart with someone¡¯s thoughtful gestures. Alan happily stored them in a box, occasionally exchanging shy smiles with Rick during his visits, sensing intuitively that he was the secret benefactor. However, he couldn''t muster a smile for Hardy, who visited with a tense air. Alan reluctantly responded to questions about his health, and Hardy every time left in irritation. After a week, Alan cautiously emerged from his chambers, warily expecting ridicule from the courtiers. However, to his surprise, they looked at him with curiosity, whispered among themselves, but refrained from mocking and jeering. Perhaps it was because the steadfast and reliable Rick walked beside him, offering encouraging smiles.


    Rick alleviated life in the palace with his involvement and the discreet trinkets he offered, endearing himself to Alan. As Alan let go of the memory of his deceased father, resentment grew towards Dwayne for recklessly endangering, betraying not only the throne but also their own father.


    Alan glided through the palace like a stealthy shadow, casting wary glances at the guards who always trailed him, their weapons ominously rattling. He sighed with a sad grin, wondering if he appeared so threatening that he required the supervision of two formidable warriors. He avoided engaging in lengthy conversations with the occasional courtiers who approached him, responding tersely and reluctantly, eager to escape before anyone could inflict a painful jab. Alan hurried to find Rick at the earliest opportunity to unwind, chat, and gain insights into life with the palace.


    Rick could usually be found in the backyard, issuing orders to the palace guards and overseeing the training of new solders. He often wielded a practice sword, demonstrating proper strokes or mounted his horse to shoot a crossbow at a target. The king would frequently join them, accompanied by his retinue. At their appearance, Alan would swiftly ascend another staircase, bidding a hasty farewell to Rick, who attempted to stop him.


    Alan patiently awaited Rick''s conclusion of his duties and then took a seat beside him, openly observing him while inhaling the distinct scents of horse sweat and crossbow oil that enveloped Rick. He listened attentively to Rick''s deliberate and fluid discourse, which detailed the intricacies of palace affairs, highlighting what should be feared and what could be dismissed. In return, Alan shared aspects of his life at home, carefully omitting unpleasant details. Strangely, Rick seemed particularly interested in Alan''s late aunt, once the nation''s foremost beauty, who had been abducted by the Hannian king and perished in a protracted, bloody war. This event had led Alan''s father to return with him, causing discord within their family.


    Alan honestly conveyed that he didn''t know much about his late aunt. His father, overwhelmed with sorrow when recalling his beloved sister, only revealed that she was a kind and gentle soul, radiating love to those around her. Her distinctive beauty, inherited from her Hannian great-grandmother, was striking, with blond hair in sharp contrast to her black eyes. She tragically passed away without experiencing happiness in her short life. The treacherous Hannian king Angus had kidnapped her after spotting her at a tournament, sparking a war.


    Even if he had openly proposed marriage, it could have caused unrest in the country. The Lear family, being older than the ruling Rune family, could be perceived by the subjects as the future rulers of Arania. Alan, having openly shared all he knew, cautiously broached a more personally intriguing topic a few days later, ¡°Why am I here? Can I request the king to send me to Scientinium? I''ve always aspired to become a knowledgeable healer.¡±


    ¡°The king would never allow that," Rick brushed dark hair off his sweaty forehead, looking at Alan with concern. ¡°Are you unhappy here? If you need something, you just can ask for that and they''ll provide it for you.¡±


    ¡°I don''t feel at ease here," Alan confessed. ¡°I''d be happier if I left. Why spend money on sustaining me, providing expensive clothes? It''s an odd punishment for the brother of a traitor, Rick. I wasn''t involved in the conspiracy, so am I being constantly watched? Another healer could emerge in the country in a few years¡¯ time.¡±


    ¡°You''ll get used to it, Alan," Rick evasively shrugged his shoulders and reiterated, "His majesty won''t allow you to leave.¡±


    Alan released a protracted sigh, perplexed by the nature of his peculiar sojourn in the palace. Despite being assigned quarters for the privileged, adorned in opulent attire, and provided with exquisite meals, he couldn''t shake off the feeling of being scrutinized as if he could commit harm at any moment. Gazing down at Rick''s large, sun-kissed hand resting casually on the bench, Alan delicately stroked it with his own slender pale hand. He spoke softly, ¡°Thank you for your support. I truly appreciate it.¡±


    Rick stared at his hand in astonishment, blushed slightly, as if Alan made a faux pas. Suddenly, he leaped up from the bench, offering a bow to someone. Perplexed, Alan turned toward the bow, promptly rising from the bench and delivering a formal bow to the king, who glared angrily at them. Hardy ignored their bows, sharply turning on his heels and briskly striding into the palace.


    ¡°Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to touch courtiers?¡± Alan blinked in confusion, but Rick offered a gentle smile, laying a comforting hand on his that was fidgeting with the ruffle of his camisole, halting the nervous movement of his fingers. ¡°It''s fine, Alan, don''t worry. Look, I''m touching you.¡±


    Alan breathed a sigh of relief, settling back, but Rick, instead of returning to sit beside him as Alan anticipated, reluctantly headed back to the soldiers who paused due to the king''s arrival, issuing brief instructions. Disappointed, Alan had to return to his chambers, feeling as though he had transgressed some unwritten rule. Unfamiliar with palace customs, which appeared to him as a complex science, he grappled with the sense that he had committed a misstep. Zack awaited him in his chambers, informing him that he would be joining the king and his retinue for dinner today, now that he was fully recovered. Alan approached the dining room as if facing the guillotine, realizing that the anticipated mockery had only been temporarily deferred by his illness.


    Alan pale from the exertion offered a bow to King Hardy and then sat upright like a rigid pole in his seat, sensing Hardy''s piercing gaze upon him. The courtiers engaged in hushed conversations, artfully disguising their dialogues with a veneer of politeness that concealed a wealth of hidden venom. Although everyone at the table was involved in the discussions, Alan responded succinctly to elaborate sentences. The ladies adorned themselves with opulent jewelry, their powdered low necklines revealed too much for Alan unaccustomed with such attire. They smiled amicably at him, but their smiles carried an undertone of chilly scrutiny. The nobles, just as curious as their companions, observed him keenly. Alan felt out of place, wrestling with his meal and frequently glancing at Rick for support.


    Rick smiled, encouraging him and deflecting attention when a particularly persistent courtier insisted on a detailed response. Alan increasingly relied on him, expressing sincere gratitude for his assistance. Hardy, however, remained sternly silent, observing everyone closely. He stood up first, bringing the dinner to an early end. The courtiers followed suit, expressing thanks for the meal. Alan, uttering words of gratitude and bowing, happily retreated to his room, relieved to escape the company of the venomous courtiers. It was indeed an unpleasant punishment; even cleaning the stables would have been preferable to enduring the presence of such deceitful court vipers.


    Surprisingly, the usual guards who accompanied him were absent, bringing a sense of unusual freedom to Alan. He strolled leisurely through the dimly lit corridor. Suddenly, a black shadow enveloped him, and he caught the familiar scent of horse sweat and crossbow oil. A rough palm covered his mouth, prompting a startled scream from Alan. However, the palm was swiftly replaced by lips¡ªhot, firm, and voracious¡ªpressing into his mouth and sucking on his tongue. Hands roamed down his tensed body, exploring with intensity until they reached the clasps of his breeches. With a swift motion, the breeches were torn off, running a handful down to his groin beneath his underwear. Alan gasped, the shadow''s mouth overpowering his, and he clutched at his camisole, feeling himself rapidly hardening under the skillful touch. He squirmed, attempting to free himself, but the shadow pressed him harder against the wall, intensifying the kiss and sliding a hand over his hardened member.


    The shadow pressed his straining cock against Alan¡¯s exposed crotch. Alan groaned, settling back on weakened legs, the searing arousal spiraling upward from his groin was making him dizzy, and unable to endure this sweet torture any longer, he slammed into the other man''s fist that was holding both cocks, rubbing and speeding up.  Alan responded to the kisses, thrusting quickly into the fist, and spurted out first, sobbing pitifully, and his assailant bit down on his neck and in a few movements brought himself up with a wheeze, spilling onto his belly. The shadow carefully sat him down on the floor, and sped away before Alan could regain his senses.


    Alan struggled to stand on shaky legs, using the wall for support with one sluggish hand while clutching his torn breeches with the other. He walked unsteadily back to his room, his cheeks flushed crimson. After thoroughly washing himself and changing, he stared dumbfoundedly at the window. He realized the encounter had been incredibly sweet, even sweeter than when he was alone. However, Rick... perhaps he, too, felt a sense of shame and preferred to engage in intimate moments with Alan in the darkness. Back home, Alan had heard about the various customs of the palace, with servants chuckling about the capital''s debauchery, but he had never encountered homosexuality in his homeland. Although he knew that male marriages were the norm in Hannia, in the stern land of Arania, such unions were not accepted, despite occasional affairs between men within the palace.


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    He drifted into sleep with a gentle smile, contemplating Rick. Perhaps, if Rick''s feelings for him ran deeper than mere lust, they could run to Hannia and get married there? Alan chuckled, covering his mouth with the blanket, and peacefully fell asleep for the first time since entering the palace. The following morning, after a hasty grooming of his unruly blond curls and getting dressed, he hurried to Rick''s usual place in the backyard. Breathless, he stumbled upon seeing the king seated beside Rick.


    ¡°Good morning, Alan," Hardy greeted with a relaxed smile. "Come, join us."


    Rick nodded, gesturing for him to approach and offering a soft greeting. Alan, feeling a sense of tedium, moved toward them, exchanging pleasantries, albeit without much desire to acknowledge the king. Seating himself at the very edge of the bench, he felt an overwhelming awkwardness. However, Hardy pulled him closer, scrutinizing his face carefully.


    "Why are you always quiet around me, Alan? Have I wronged you? And you gaze at me as if I''m your enemy," Hardy turned his face towards him, making him meet his gaze.


    "I have nothing to say, your majesty. I look with respect, as a subject should," Alan replied with a steady and direct look. Hardy sighed faintly, releasing his chin.


    "With respect, indeed. I don''t usually receive such defiant looks from my subjects without them risking losing their heads. Don''t bite your lip, princess. I forgive you. By the way, if you wish, you can see your sister. She''s soon to be married to a good nobleman."


    "Shouldn¡¯t she...?" Alan caught himself before saying, "Shouldn''t she marry you?" Instead, he asked, "Did she agree?"


    Hardy responded, "Yes, of course. Don''t see me as a monster, Alan. I didn''t force her. Her chosen one is young, attractive, and very rich. Melissa accepted his hand and heart with joy. This marriage would give her more reason to enjoy life at court. There wasn''t much entertainment in your land. As she complained, your father generously gave his money to the people, leaving few resources for the lavish balls she loved so much."


    Alan replied with dignity, "My father was kind to his people, taking care of them as the head of the land should. If Melissa marries on her own free will, I''m happy for her. However, I don''t want to meet her because we''re not on good terms."


    Hardy pointedly glanced at Rick, who had retreated to the warriors, and asked, "Who are you on the best of terms with? Him? You look at him with trust and warmth. Why don''t you look at me like that, Princess?"


    ¡°Maybe because you call me princess?¡± Alan, unable to bear that, blurted out with annoyance. ¡°I''m not a girl, can''t you tell?¡±


    "But beautiful, unlike every other girl," Hardy smiled softly, openly admiring him. "I''ve never seen such beauty anywhere, Alan, not even in Hannia. Your golden curls and blue eyes are the envy of every lady in the palace. And many of them would like you to reciprocate," Hardy lowered his voice, getting close to his face. "Do you fancy any of the ladies? Is there someone in mind?"


    "No," Alan recoiled. "And there won''t be. No one would marry a bastard."


    "Is that the only reason?" Hardy grinned, continuing to scrutinize him with intense eyes. "So do you fancy someone?"


    Alan smiled faintly, recollecting the events from yesterday, and cast a furtive glance at Rick, who was demonstrating another sword move to his soldiers while riding. Hardy exhaled sharply, straightening up, and released a sigh filled with bitterness.


    "Ah, that''s it... Well, I should have thought of that, I didn''t, and I should have... I forbid you to come to the backyard, Alan. Go to your chambers."


    "But¡ª" Alan''s lips trembled as he looked longingly at Rick, and Hardy shouted, squinting angrily,


    "Don''t test my patience, Alan!"


    Alan rushed to his chambers, trembling with restrained sobs, harboring an even deeper resentment towards the king. He threw himself on the bed, thrashing his arms and legs in a fit of frustration, crying uncontrollably. Zack anxiously circled around him, eventually sitting down, gently stroking his back, and attempting to console him.


    "What''s wrong, sir? Who has wronged you? Tell the king, and he would tear anyone to shreds for you."


    "He did!" Alan shouted, raising his face covered with tears. "He''s a vicious, vile mocker! He mocks me! He always has! He used to ask me to dance like a court lady when I came to court occasionally, humiliating me with it! He still calls me princess, as if I''m not a man!"


    "How could you?" Zack turned pale, placing his hand over his heart. "His majesty cares for you so much! He has forbidden all the courtiers to offend you, informing them that any insult to you will result in immediate withdrawal from the court. He placed you in the best quarters, surrounded you with care, and has kept your sister away from you, knowing that she does not love you. How can you speak so of him? He is kind, caring, just! You simply cannot forgive him for executing his brother!"


    "What?" Alan wiped away his tears and sat down, perplexed. "Did he really instruct the courtiers not to harm me? Then why is he keeping me under the supervision of two guards, treating me like a dangerous criminal?"


    Zack chuckled, easing up, and replied with a smile:


    "They guard you from all the threats of the palace, Alan, not the palace from you. There are quite a few envious people here who wish you ill fortune. Even your sister was upset about being placed in the common quarters and demanded that you be relocated, or even better, expelled from the palace. The king was very angry and told her that he could send her back to her father''s house with her excommunicated mother, so she quieted down."


    Alan fell silent, turning his face away in shame¡ªhad he misunderstood Hardy, who had been so kind to him? Why, then, did Hardy mockingly call him a princess? It was incomprehensible, and Alan pondered, nervously rubbing the twisted cord of his camisole. He joined the dinner on time, bowing to the king this time without strain, glancing at him briefly. However, Hardy pursed his lips, clearly noticing Alan''s red eyes, and tilted his head, signaling him to sit down. Alan scanned the table with a polite nod of greeting and flinched upon seeing his sister seated next to Rick. Melissa responded with a cold look in her amber eyes, jerking her chin angrily, pursing her lips, and placing her hand on Rick''s arm, who replied with a gentle smile. Alan stared in bewilderment at their intertwined hands, not comprehending what was happening, and the king addressed his unspoken question with an announcement, ¡°Today, I have delightful news to share. y dearest friend and trusted ally, Earl Rick of Mornay, plans to marry Duchess Melissa Lear. I''m thrilled for you, Rick," he said, patting Rick on the shoulder, leaning over, and offering a warm smile. Meanwhile, Melissa, radiant, received well-wishes from courtiers who likely already knew the news but feigned surprise.


    Alan let his hands drop helplessly to his knees, feeling the impact of the unexpected revelation, and quickly composed himself with an inscrutable expression. He joined the congratulations with a forced smile, saying, ¡°Congratulations, Melissa and Rick! I wish you both a life filled with happiness and prosperity!¡±


    Melissa curled her lips with disdain but cast a fleeting smile toward her fianc¨¦, ¡°Thank you, dear brother.¡±


    Alan struggled through the remainder of the meal, feeling uneasy and watching Rick and Melissa exchange affectionate glances. Inside he resented the fact that Rick could deceive him in such a manner. Why would Rick kiss and caress him in the hallway if he harbored feelings for someone else? Alan bit his lip until it bled, finally realizing that Rick would never openly show interest in him, let alone elope to Hannia. After all, he was not the legitimate daughter of the deceased king''s former right-hand man, but merely a bastard with whom Rick could engage in clandestine affairs under the cover of darkness. This realization, bitter and disheartening, irreversibly tainted the flavor of the royal meal. Alan swallowed the food with unshed tears, never lifting his eyes from his plate.


    He came back to his chambers with a clear desire to escape to Scientinium as soon as possible, to embrace the path of a healer and thereby close the chapter of his past. He refrained from shedding tears, offering only a wry grin at his own blindness. Silently, he bowed to Hardy, who entered the room after him. Hardy approached him, watching his face with intensity.


    ¡°Are you disturbed by their wedding, Alan? Do you hold such affection for Rick?¡±


    ¡°Not at all, Your Majesty," Alan pressed his lips into a sardonic smirk, involuntarily edging against the wall to maintain some distance. ¡°I am genuinely happy for their joy. It''s just that Rick was my sole friend here; he treated me kindly. However, with Melissa in the picture, I doubt we''ll have the chance to maintain our close friendship.¡±


    ¡°Why just one friend?¡± Hardy sighed wistfully, looming over him. ¡°What about me? Haven''t I treated you well, Alan? Why don''t you regard me with the same warmth? Tell me, enlighten me. I''m uncertain about how to earn your smile. I''ve courted you, tiptoed around you, and all I receive are cautiously distrustful glances and your back when you run away from me. It''s my own fault, I admit. With my every attempt to be gentle with you I snap in the face of your rejection and end up spoiling every fragment of warmth between us.¡±


    ¡°Courting?¡± Alan blinked in shock. ¡°I''m not sure I understand, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Alan," Hardy confessed, breathing heavily as he gazed at Alan''s astonished expression. ¡°I, King Hardy Rune, ruler of Arania, have been deeply in love with you for several years now. I dream of you returning my affections, Alan, of you loving me with the same fervor as I love you, my princess," he pulled Alan''s hand toward his and kissed him, leaving him stunned.


    Alan gasped with indignation, pushing his hands against Hardy''s chest to distance himself. However, Hardy pressed him against the wall with his entire body, moaning into his mouth, running his hands over Alan''s body, leaving a scent of horse sweat and crossbow oil. Alan, feeling his strength wane, stared at Hardy in bewilderment¡ªso it was Hardy who had kissed him before. Hardy pulled back abruptly, breathing heavily, wiped his moist lips with the palm of his hand, and whispered, ¡°I apologize for once again acting like that. I struggle to control myself when I''m around you. Alan, please tell me, what can I do to change your perception of me? Can''t you find it in yourself to forgive me for losing that fight? I removed Mile from his position to prevent him from harming you. I knew Mile harbored ill feelings toward you. My intention was never to cause you harm. You bravely confronted me, and for the first time, you looked at me for so long that I couldn''t end the fight sooner. I lingered, savoring your attention, even if it was fueled by anger. Or perhaps you were offended by the blown kisses in the hallway?¡±


    ¡°Why? How?¡± Alan averted his gaze, feeling uncomfortable as Hardy''s eyes continued to reflect a desire that made him uneasy. ¡°Your Majesty, I am a bastard, and I have endured enough mistreatment at home and in court from people. I cannot become your lover and bear the shame that would accompany such a relationship.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, Princess," Hardy smiled softly, turning his face back. ¡°I''m changing the law so I can marry you and make history in Arania with the first male marriage in decades. I don''t intend to humiliate you with an inappropriate position. I''ve been dreaming of marrying you for years. Please look at me differently, give me a chance, open your heart to me, Alan. The king is begging you to reciprocate, begging you humbly, come on!¡±


    Alan listened to the turmoil raging inside, looked incredulously at Hardy, searching for hidden mockery in his face, but saw only a bright, sincere feeling, a timid hope, and whispered with embarrassment, ¡°Forgive me, your Majesty, for thinking ill of you. I... I need time to think.¡±


    ¡°Don''t think too long, Alan," Hardy swallowed and ran a finger over his lips. ¡°Kings are not known for their patience. I''ve waited too long for you.¡±

 Chapter 4

    Alan shrugged his shoulders, sensing the stunned gazes of all the courtiers who hadn''t anticipated such a proclamation from the king. However, King Hardy calmly reiterated, keeping his eyes on Alan''s flushed face, ¡°As of today, Arania''s matrimonial law permits male marriages. All those desiring to take a husband into their family can submit a request as usual- nobles to the king, those without title to the magistrate.¡± The king fell silent, allowing the shocking news to sink in for everyone. He then added with weight in his tone, subtly weaving a warning to potential rivals, ¡°I, King Hardy Rune, publicly declare myself a candidate for the hand and heart of Duke Alan Lear.¡±


    The courtiers, collectively exhaling, exchanged whispers of amazement, covering their mouths with palms and fans. Hardy rose from the throne and descended the steps slowly, approaching Alan, who was instantly encircled by a void. Speaking quietly, addressing only Alan, he said, ¡°Well, my love, it''s been two weeks. What do you think? Don''t keep me in waiting any longer. Please tell me what you¡¯ve decided.¡±


    Alan looked up at him, his eyes shining with shy happiness, and Hardy gasped, discerning the answer on his face. He took Alan''s hand, squeezing it tightly. Bending toward him, Hardy momentarily forgot they were not in the secluded silence of the chambers but in a grand throne room filled with courtiers and servants. He tensed when he heard an indignant exclamation from behind him.


    The elderly Baron Wellian, known for his temper and directness, pounded the stone floor tiles with his heavy cane and exclaimed loudly, "The king''s husband will be a Hannian bastard?! He will tarnish the throne with filth! All neighboring kingdoms will look at us with mockery, and we will become the laughingstock of the world! I''m not opposed to a male marriage; it was permitted when I was young. But, Your Majesty, regain your senses! There are plenty of other young men at court whose origins are not tainted by extramarital affairs, more worthy of your attention.¡±


    "Don''t you dare cross the king!" Hardy erupted instantly, squeezing Alan''s hand tightly. "Anyone who dares to insult my chosen one will be excommunicated from the court - I warned you! Baron Wellian, from this day forward, you are banned from the capital! If you insult the future junior king again, you will be punished with the same penalty as if you insulted the throne - the death penalty! Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge my decision?" He looked around threateningly, and all those whispering unhappily averted their eyes in fear and fell silent.


    Baron Wellian staggered back in shock, grabbing his gown with his thin hand, pulling the strangling collar off his chicken-skinny neck, and said in disbelief elongating his words, "Your Majesty, I have served your grandfather, your father, and you faithfully all my life. Will you not, for the sake of a bastard..."


    "Remove the Baron from the hall!" Hardy furrowed his brows and bellowed angrily, "Only in remembrance of your past services will I not have you executed!¡±


    The baron hunched over as if his life had been drained out of him with that shout and raised his hand helplessly, stopping the guards from rushing toward him.


    "I''ll leave, I¡¯ll leave..." he muttered, shuffling away across the floor in his senile way, while Alan spoke nervously, looking at Hardy, who was frowning implacably, "Please don''t, Your Majesty. Baron Wellian is right. I''m only a bastard."


    "You are the king''s chosen one, Alan. No one should look down upon you," Hardy stated pointedly. "We''ll talk later in your chambers. You''re pale. Go to your room," and gently nudged Alan, nodding to his guards.


    Alan moved toward the exit, trembling nervously as he observed the courtiers bowing respectfully before him. Melissa, frozen in shock and holding her hand to her heart, was the sole exception, not bowing, but narrowing her eyes furiously, murmuring something. Alan grinned faintly; it was to be expected. As a bastard, he had taken the place she had dreamed of all her life. If she had despised him before, she probably hated him fiercely now. Rick, who had been watching her intently, bent toward her, saying something sharply. Melissa bowed to Alan slightly, urged on by her fianc¨¦.


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    "There, I told you," Zack bustled around him animatedly, helping him change. "We servants know everything before the masters because we see more, hear more. I sensed from the beginning that the king cared for you, cared for you as he cared for no one else. He is absolutely in love with you."


    "What of it, Zack?" Alan shook his head lamentably, sighing. "The king shouldn''t have announced it, and I knew I''d gotten him in trouble when I saw the reaction of the courtiers, outraged by his decision. The others may have remained silent, but they are as angry as Baron Wellian, so they may revolt against the king."


    ¡°His Majesty will be able to quell the discontent. He is a strong ruler, despite his youth," Zack answered confidently. "Don''t worry, sir. The most important thing is that there is an understanding between you, and the king will handle the court. He will do anything for you."


    Hardy was willing to do anything for him, Zack was right. Alan was convinced of that too when he noticed, a few days later, that the number of courtiers had decreased. Many, unable to accept the new order of things, disappeared¡ª those nobles who couldn''t adapt. Those who remained behaved with Alan very discreetly, not daring to offend him even with a look. It was strange to be at the epicenter of attention. Alan tried to show less of himself to the court, but Hardy insisted gently on his going out.


    "Do you agree to be my husband, Alan?" Hardy got down on his knee after five days of intense glancing, clarifying with his eyes alone that he had gotten it right, that Alan was ready to open his heart to him. "Please say yes!"


    "Yes," Alan squirmed in embarrassment, and Hardy exhaled sharply, and pulled Alan against him, peering searchingly into his face.


    ¡°Did you say yes because I gave you no choice, or because you like me?" Hardy looked at him tensely, waiting for an answer, and Alan whispered quietly, looking into the burning green eyes.


    "Because I like you, Your Majesty."


    "Address me as Hardy, Alan," Hardy smiled happily. "You don''t have to be so prim, you''re my fianc¨¦ now. How long I''ve waited for this!" He kissed Alan softly, gently at first, but deepened the kiss at once, moaning in pleasure, his eager hands slipping under Alan¡¯s camisole.


    Alan responded passionately to the kiss, exploring Hardy''s strong muscles with his hands, savoring the sensations. He delighted in the pleasure of being loved and desired, shifting the feelings from Rick, who was mistakenly seen as a secret admirer, to Hardy. As Hardy''s hands deftly undid the clasps of his breeches and pulled them down from his hips, Alan shuddered in anticipation ¨C is it going to happen now? Breathing heavily, Hardy reassured him gently, ¡°We will not go far before the wedding, just share some tender moments. I deserve that, don¡¯t you think, Princess? Please relax," he reassured, unbuttoning his own breeches and revealing his aroused member. Alan stared in horror, realizing only now that this sizable shaft would soon be penetrating him. Hardy placed a hand on his own member, clouding his gaze. "No need to fear, Al. I''ll be gentle. Please touch me."


    Alan obediently traced his trembling fingers down the length, from the moist tip to the very base, gauging it with touch. He swallowed, feeling his own member enveloped by Hardy''s confident and measured strokes, delivering enchanting pleasure. Responding to the kiss, he mirrored Hardy''s movements, gripping his member in a tight circle, gasping in shared arousal. Hardy released a husky groan, spilling the essence over his belly, smiling contentedly as he pulled his camisole from his shoulders. ¡°I want to see you naked, Al, please let me.¡±


    Alan squirmed in shame, allowing to undress him, shrugging to have his camisole removed, raising his arms to have his shirt pulled down, stepping over his legs to have his breeches pulled down to his ankles. Hardy moved back, looking him over greedily, admiring him like a priceless treasure, eyes darkening again in desire.


    ¡°God, you''re beautiful, Princess. Don''t cover for me, Alan. Let me admire you. Damn it, I want you again. I can''t get enough of you.¡±


    Hardy stumbled toward the exit, fastening his breeches while swallowing eagerly. Alan opened his eyes and extended his arms compliantly, allowing to be observed. He gazed at his own naked form, clad only in stockings, wondering what about him drove Hardy to such intense desire. Slender and thin, lacking robust muscles, Alan had always felt self-conscious about his delicate physique, often wishing for the more masculine build that Dwayne possessed. The reasons weren''t entirely clear, but it was evident that Hardy still found him attractive.

 Chapter 5

    The wedding was to be celebrated with a lavish ball. Having sent invitations to the neighboring kingdoms, Alan immersed himself into the preparations, marveling at the sheer number of details required for the festivities. A royal wedding was beyond the lavishness of the most lavish celebrations, so Melissa''s wedding to Rick went relatively unnoticed. Alan suspected he''d further fueled Melissa''s hatred, but Rick chuckled good-naturedly and waved away his timid apologies, ¡°Melissa, like any woman, wants to shine, that''s normal, Alan. Plus, she''s very ambitious. She only wanted to marry Hardy because she wanted to be first lady of the kingdom, even though she loved me. She''ll get used to it. She''s a good girl, just a bit feisty, and I hope you two will get along in time.¡±


    ¡°And it didn''t bother you that she wanted to marry Hardy?" Alan looked at Rick in surprise, but Rick sighed, ¡°Of course, it did, Alan. Loving someone with your whole being means you embrace them just as they are, with both their strengths and weaknesses. She''s a good person at heart, just brought up the wrong way by her mother. Amanda Lear was overly concerned with status, implanting false values in her children''s heads, for which she paid for with her son''s death. Now that Melissa is away from her mother, she''s changing gradually, embracing real values.  Everything will be okay, I''m sure of it. Do you love Hardy?¡±


    "I''m not sure," Alan stammered, averting his eyes from Rick''s probing gaze, feeling a sense of embarrassment. ¡°I''m very attracted to him. I also may be in love¡­¡±


    ¡°That''s great, I am happy for you. He cannot imagine living without you. I hope that with time, you''ll come to love him just as deeply." Rick squeezed his shoulder. ¡°Take care of your happiness, Alan, it''s a fragile thing. Listen to your heart.¡±


    The royal families of all four kingdoms arrived for the wedding, impressive in their appearance and dress and the pomp with which they arrived. Some went in long processions, flaunting their wealth, scattering gold coins into the crowd. And the people of Arania were delighted, reconciled to the king''s marriage. Alan stood in a white camisole adorned with filigree lace and jewels, head held proudly high, prepared to be ostracized by other royal families who knew no such disgrace as marriage to a bastard. Tenderly holding his hand, Hardy interlaced their fingers while graciously greeting each guest, eloquently articulating the necessary social pleasantries. Alan echoed him in the same polite manner and exhaled faintly in relief as the guests retreated to their seats.


    The last to enter the throne room were the Hannians, led by Imreta Lianor, Queen of Hania. She stepped majestically in front of her retinue. Similar to Alan, she had golden curls intertwined with strands of pearls, fair skin, and a slender frame, however, she looked at the world not with blue eyes but with light gray, icy ones. Alan bowed his head and was about to say the customary greetings, as he froze in shock. In the retinue of thin, graceful, brightly dressed Hannians, the imposing figure and solemn mourning dress of his stepmother, Amanda Lear, stood out. An impending thunderstorm was in the air, but it was not her who wielded the lightning, but Imreta, who announced loudly, ¡°Greetings King Hardy Rune of Arania and... King Alan Lianor of Hania.¡±


    All the courtiers signed in shock, Hardy, pushed Alan behind his back, and stepped forward, clenching his fists as if he wanted to shut Queen Imreta up. She smiled coldly, comprehending his desire, and gestured to Amanda, who continued on behind her and presented a scroll, ¡°My sister-in-law, Malia Lear, was not kidnapped by the Hannian king Rurk Lianor, but fled with him willingly and entered into a secret marriage with him that only a narrow circle knew about. Rurk Lianor dissolved his marriage to his wife Dana in order to marry Malia. Malia Lianor gave birth prematurely to Alan Lianor, the future king of Hania, and died in agony upon learning of her husband''s death. In order not to plunge the kingdoms into an unnecessary long war and to save my nephew from death, my husband gave him away as his bastard. I was going to tell him when Alan Lianor came of age, but I didn''t have a chance to tell him," Amanda grinned at the pale Hardy, avenging her son''s death with a wicked grin, enjoying the sadness on his face.


    ¡°I myself was shocked to learn that I, who had been preparing for the role of queen since childhood, had a king," Imreta twitched her cheek nervously. ¡°But, like any Hannian, I respect the law of primogeniture, so I yield the throne to my cousin," she bowed low to Alan.


    Alan swayed as he looked at his stepmother, shifting his stunned gaze from her to the icy Imreta, who was looking at him in anticipation, to the Hannians kneeling before him. He shuddered, here was the long-awaited title, acceptance, respect, but why did it hurt so much, why was it so sad? He looked at Hardy, who had turned to him, and asked in a barely audible voice, ¡°Did you know?¡±


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    I had my suspicions, but there was no evidence," Hardy gazed at him with a sense of desperation. ¡°The Lear blood is strong, even your mother wasn''t blue-eyed, though she inherited blond hair, and you took nothing from the brown-eyed brunettes of the Lear. You look like Lianor, King Rurke had blue eyes. Now... now will you leave me, Alan?


    Weary, Alan closed his eyes, unprepared to make such a momentous decision and face the most significant shock of his life. He chose instead to heed the advice Rick had given him and listened to his heart. His heart did not want to go to Hania, that was strange and unknown to him; it wanted to stay with Hardy, who had changed the country for him, who had given up his offspring voluntarily. Alan broke the long silence, stepping forward, leaving Hardy behind him.


    ¡°Thank you for the news, Queen Imreta. I am pleased to be your kinsman, honored to be called your brother, but... I am officially abdicating the throne in your favor, for Hannia should not be ruled by someone who was raised in another country and pledged allegiance to another throne.


    Imreta sighed deeply, incredulous, but her warm gray eyes brightened and she rushed toward him, throwing her arms around him for a hug. Amanda stomped her foot in frustration, hissing something unintelligible, pushing Melissa away from her.


    ¡°Thank you, oh, thank you, dear cousin," Imreta hugged Alan and kissed both cheeks, unable to hold back tears of gratitude. ¡°As a legitimate member of the royal family, you remain Prince of Hania and are granted vast estates," she turned to the crowd and proclaimed, holding Alan''s hand, ¡°Greet the noble Prince of Lianor!¡±


    The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and Hardy wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him tightly against him, pushing Imreta away.


    ¡°You abdicated for me, my love?¡± Hardy looked happy, not believing his ears, and Alan nodded, smiling, ¡°For our happiness, my love.¡±


    They entered the king''s chambers deep into the night weary from the festivities, Alan collapsed on his bed exhaustedly, muttering sleepily, ¡°I am too tired to take my clothes off, Hardy, I''m sorry, but the wedding night is postponed.¡±


    "Oh, no," Hardy hastily removed his clothes, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Alan. "I presumed you, my dear, would be weary, so I''ve concocted an elixir for you. Please drink it. I''ve waited years for this night, and not even you can take it away from me."


    Alan sighed with discontent, turned over, and picked up the glass bottle from the table. He followed Hardy''s gaze as he gestured toward it, revealing almost his entire unclothed body shamelessly, displaying his muscular form to Alan. In a single gulp, he consumed the elixir, blushing under Hardy''s persistent and suggestive gaze, determined to take control. He could feel the elixir''s warmth settling in his stomach, and gradually spreading invigorating warmth throughout his body, revitalizing his energy. Hardy, fully undressed, his cock swaying up and down, began to undress him quickly, kissing him fervently, and threw him on the bed, naked, flushed, drifting in languid state, covering his body with kisses and moaning with arousal.


    "Relax, Alan. The first time might be a bit uncomfortable," Hardy moaned as he stretched him, hovering over Alan. Alan obediently eased into it, reciprocating the kisses and gently caressing Hardy''s chest and shoulders, feeling the strong fingers preparing him, quickly, almost with a hint of pain. Hardy lay down on top of him, spreading his knees wider, and gently pushed inside, looking at him eagerly, catching the changes in his facial expressions, hearing Alan¡¯s a long painful moan, thrusting deeper, and moved back slowly, not wanting to cause any unnecessary pain.


    Alan groaned differently, feeling the huge fire-burning shaft hit his sacrum sweetly, and opened his eyes in surprise, and Hardy laughed softly, picking up his leg and throwing it over his shoulder.


    ¡°Yes, my love, love is sweet, I''ll teach you everything," and he began to move faster, thrusting his hips against Alan¡¯s buttocks, thrusting deeply, capturing Alan¡¯s passionate sobs with his mouth. Alan clutched Hardy''s hands and clumsily attempted to raise his hips to match the vigorous thrusts. He tossed his head back in the mad pleasure that swept over him and moaned louder and louder as he felt himself flying away into the abyss of pleasure. He was the initial one to climax, his cock tightly held by strong fingers, sobbing uncontrollably, and wheezed when Hardy''s hard, sprawling thrusts intensified the post-orgasmic pleasure, pouring inside him.


    ¡°You''re mine now, forever mine, princess," Hardy laid  Alan on his chest, kissing his forehead softly, and Alan laughed, snuggling up to him trustingly, raising his eyes to him, ¡°You''ll get a slap if you call me that again, Hardy. I''m your prince, okay?¡±


    ¡°My king," Hardy corrected himself, smiling. ¡°But you''ll always be a princess to me," and he chuckled in amazement, getting the promised slap. ¡°Well, I''m sorry, I''ve been calling you that since I was sixteen, when I dreamed of marrying you. I can''t change that quickly, Prince of Lianor, so let me call you princess.¡±


    ¡°Only if you call me that in private," Alan leaned back on his favorite chest and smiled happily, feeling that he had done the right thing by listening to his heart.


    Thus the former bastard Lear became Prince of Lianor of Hania and Junior King of Arania, beginning the longstanding institution of male marriage in Arania, which recognized love in its various forms. And earned the immeasurable respect of Arania''s subjects by balancing the older king, the strong ruler Hardy Rune, with his gentle calm interference in Hardy¡¯s confidently harsh rule.