Soren's POV
The King's voice cut through the tense air of the small room.
"Bring the gifts in… for the birthday boy."
I straightened immediately. My boots scraped the rough floor as I moved toward the door. Outside, six men stood waiting — soldiers I handpicked myself. Each carried something wrapped, polished, glowing with importance. The weight of gold, silk, and machines that no commoner could ever dream of.
I barked, "Inside. Careful."
One by one, they filed in, setting down chests and boxes. The little house suddenly looked too small for the treasures pouring into it. Silver-trimmed toy soldiers, a gleaming clock, a carved wooden stallion with real gold in its mane, a chest of coins, a folded garment that shimmered like morning light.
The boy's eyes widened. His hands twitched, but he dared not touch. His father froze in place, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn't breathe. The mother clutched her wrapper, trembling as though lightning had struck her living room.
I stole a glance at Chris. He wasn't smiling with arrogance. No—he was calm, almost soft.
He turned to the boy.
"These are not bribes. They are marks. You had courage to invite me. Courage must be rewarded."
I watched the boy gulp. He looked at his father, then his mother, then back at Chris. His voice cracked as he whispered,
"Thank you… my King."
The King leaned forward, his cloak brushing against the clay floor.
"Do not thank me. Earn it. Grow. One day, I will ask of you what you asked of me tonight: boldness."
Silence swallowed the room. Even I, Soren Vask, hardened by war and fire, felt my chest tighten. The boy didn't just receive toys or treasures. He received a burden—one he could never shake.
I snapped my fingers, and the soldiers stacked the gifts neatly, bowing low before stepping back. The poor home now looked like a palace, overflowing with gold, silver, and things they would never have dreamed of.
Chris finally rose. His shadow filled the room, but his tone was gentle:
"Celebrate your son. Let this day never be forgotten in your bloodline."
I bowed deeply, though my heart was restless.
Even in moments like this, the King was never just giving. He was planting seeds.
And I knew… one day, that little boy would carry the weight of this night, whether in loyalty, or in chains.