The Duke's Son

One night, when the moon hung high in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie glow over the courtyard. The scent of iron was thick in the cold night air, clinging to Lila's throat as she stood frozen in place. 

Her son—her precious son—was kneeling on the ground, his small hands soaked in crimson. The lifeless body of a village boy lay sprawled beneath him, his wide, unseeing eyes locked in perpetual terror. 

Lila's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. Her mind refused to process the sight before her. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. 

"Alexander," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

At the sound of her voice, Alexander turned, his red eyes glistening with unshed tears. His delicate features, a perfect blend of hers and Axel's, were twisted in a strange mix of anguish and confusion. 

"Mother…" His voice wavered, small and broken. "Did I do something wrong?" 

Lila felt her heart lurch violently against her ribs. 

Her son was crying. Crying, yet his hands still trembled over the body. Crying, yet his nails were dug deep into the soft flesh, as if unable to let go. 

"Alexander," she took a shaky step forward, careful not to frighten him, "what… what have you done?" 

His lips quivered. "I didn't mean to… I just…" He let out a choked sob. "I wanted to see." 

"To see?" Lila echoed, horror creeping up her spine. 

"I wanted to know," he continued, his voice fragile yet disturbingly calm. "I wanted to know what it felt like. What it meant to take something away." He looked down at his bloodstained hands, as if only now realizing the gravity of his actions. His breathing quickened. "But he screamed, and then he stopped moving, and I—" His eyes darted back to Lila, searching, pleading. "Mother, tell me, did I do something wrong?" 

Lila's legs nearly gave out beneath her. 

This was her child. The boy she carried, the boy she raised, the boy she held in her arms on sleepless nights. 

Yet here he was, kneeling in a pool of blood, asking if murder was wrong. 

Tears welled in Lila's eyes, blurring her vision. She reached for him, her fingers trembling. "Alexander, listen to me," she whispered, "you mustn't—" 

Before she could finish, a sharp voice cut through the air. 

"What's going on here?" 

Axel. 

His cold, commanding presence sent a shiver through the night as he approached, his piercing gaze locking onto the gruesome scene. 

Alexander's entire body tensed. He turned back to Lila, frantic, desperate. "Father mustn't know," he whispered, his hands clenching the bloodied fabric of his clothes. "Please, Mother… don't let him hate me." 

Lila's heart shattered.

Lila's breath came in shallow gasps, her mind racing as she looked at her son—her sweet, beautiful boy—now drenched in blood, his crimson eyes wide with fear. But it wasn't fear of punishment.

It was fear of being abandoned.

She saw it in the way his fingers curled into his clothes, in the way his gaze flitted between the lifeless body and her face, desperate for reassurance.

"Mother," Alexander whispered, his voice trembling. "Please... I didn't mean to make you upset."

Lila's throat tightened.

This was her child. The boy she had cradled in her arms, the boy who had once fallen asleep to the sound of her voice, the boy who had giggled whenever she kissed his forehead.

How could this be the same child?

How had she not seen the darkness festering inside him?

Her hands clenched at her sides. She had to say something, do something. But before she could speak, the heavy sound of boots against the stone courtyard made her stomach drop.

Axel.

The moment Alexander heard his father's approach, his entire body stiffened, his tiny frame trembling like a cornered animal.

Lila saw the raw panic in his eyes before he turned to her, grabbing at her skirts. "Don't let him hate me, Mother," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll be good. I'll be better. Just… don't let Father look at me like I'm a monster."

Lila froze, unable to breathe.

Because deep inside, she feared that was exactly what Axel would see.

A monster.

"What's going on here?" Axel's voice was as sharp as a blade, cutting through the thick silence.

He stepped into view, his towering presence immediately suffocating. His dark hair gleamed under the moonlight, and his cold, unreadable gaze flickered between Lila, Alexander, and the body on the ground.

The air around them grew heavy.

Lila didn't dare turn to look at him. She knew what she would see. A man who prided himself on control, on logic—on order.

And now, standing before him, was his own son, covered in blood, caught in an act that no child should ever commit.

Alexander clung to Lila's skirts tighter, his breathing shallow.

Axel took another step forward, his voice lowering dangerously. "Lila."

It wasn't a question.

It was a demand.

Tell me what happened.

Lila swallowed hard. She had to choose her next words carefully.

But what was she supposed to say?

That their son had killed another child?

That he had done it because he was curious?

That he didn't even seem to understand why it was wrong?

She felt Alexander's fingers dig into her dress, his silent plea echoing in her ears.

Axel was still waiting.

"Lila." His voice was colder this time.

Lila's heart pounded in her chest as she slowly turned to Axel. His piercing gaze was locked onto her, unrelenting, demanding the truth. She had spent years by his side, learned to navigate his sharp words and colder silences, but never had she feared what he would say next as much as she did now. 

Alexander's grip on her skirts tightened, his small frame trembling. He was scared—not of the blood on his hands, not of the lifeless body at his feet, but of the judgment in his father's eyes. 

Lila reached out and gently placed a hand on Alexander's head, smoothing down his messy blonde hair. Her fingers came away streaked with red. 

She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat. 

"He's just a child," she whispered, not looking away from Axel. "Our child." 

Axel's jaw clenched, his expression unreadable. The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. 

Then, finally, his voice came, quiet but laced with steel. 

"A child," he echoed, his gaze flickering down to the corpse. "Who took another life." 

Alexander flinched. His breath hitched in his throat, and for the first time since Lila had found him, tears welled in his red eyes. 

"I didn't mean to," he whispered, voice shaking. "I—Mother, I—" 

His words broke off into choked sobs, his tiny hands grasping desperately at her. 

Lila instinctively pulled him into her embrace, cradling his trembling body against her. "Shh… it's alright," she murmured, but even she knew those words were empty. Nothing was alright. 

Axel took a slow step forward, and Alexander tensed violently in her arms. Lila felt it—the raw fear running through him. 

She turned to Axel, pleading with her eyes. "Don't do this." 

Axel's expression didn't change. "Do what?" His voice was devoid of warmth, and Lila felt a deep, terrible dread settle in her chest. 

"You think I want to see my own son like this?" he continued, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Do you think I wanted to believe it? That our flesh and blood could—" 

He stopped himself, exhaling sharply, as if forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. 

But Lila could see it. 

The flicker of doubt. 

The realization that perhaps this wasn't just a child's mistake. 

That maybe… just maybe… something inside Alexander was broken. 

Alexander clung to Lila tighter, burying his face against her. "I didn't mean to," he whispered again. "Mother, I was just—" His voice cracked. "He wouldn't stop crying."

Lila's breath caught in her throat. 

Axel went completely still. 

The weight of those words settled over them like a suffocating fog. 

He wouldn't stop crying. 

Alexander had wanted silence. So he had taken it. 

Axel's voice was barely above a whisper, but the words sent a chill down Lila's spine. 

"...What have we created?"