Silas Ross

The grand hall of Ross Keep was filled with the murmurs of the gathered nobility, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows against the stone walls. 

Despite sending invitations far and wide, only Baron Fairbrook, Baroness Goldmere, and Baroness Silvercrest had accepted. However, these families did not come to celebrate the transition of Patriarch title, they came to find out why it was happening in the first place.

Adin Ross was the only magus this family had. Who in this useless family was capable of taking his spot?

Their presence was only due to curiosity and not respect for the declining family. At least, other baron-class families had children with an affinity for magic—they just didn't have the talent needed to climb up the ladder. 

The ceremonial drums sounded, and the doors were thrown open; the murmurs turned into hushed gasps.

A young man—not of Ross blood—walked towards the throne.

Silas.

He was dressed in the ceremonial white and blue robes of House Ross, his expression unreadable and his steps steady even under the gaze of many. 

Buzz!

His presence alone sent ripples through the gathered nobles. He wasn't an heir. He wasn't even family by name. Yet, he now stood at the foot of the ancestral seat of the Ross Patriarchs.

They haven't even known of this child's existence until tonight

Baron Fairbrook frowned, his fingers tapping against his goblet. He was a circular-shaped man whose protruding belly constituted fifty percent of his body mass. 

He has bushy eyebrows and a face even a mother would reject. Whoever was married to this man was most likely forced to—no amount of money was worth spending a night with this beast.

Beside him was a mini version of his ugly self, standing beside him with a proud smile that would make a perfectly healthy man throw up. The boy has curly orange hair with the nastiest-looking freckles Silas had ever seen.

"This must be some mistake," Baron Fairbrook muttered, but no correction came. 

Instead, Adin Ross stood beside the throne and gave a nod of approval.

Silas slowly ascended the steps and turned to face the crowd. The moment he sat upon the throne, silence drowned the hall.

Adin stepped forward and spoke in a calm and resolute voice.

"You are all gathered here to witness the passing of the Ross Patriarchy. This is my adopted son and successor, Silas." He said

The room erupted into murmurs, some hushed, some loud with disbelief. Only now did they notice no other members of the Ross family were present for this ceremony—this had never happened before.

Baroness Goldmere narrowed her eyes. This was a slender lady heavily reliant on makeup to preserve her youthful beauty but it wasn't fooling Silas. He was certain this woman was in her early 50's at the very least and the thick layer of make-up made it hard to tell what she looked like underneath.

Silas was certain if he walked past this lady without makeup, five minutes from now, he wouldn't recognize her.

"Lord Ross, you mean to pass your legacy to an outsider?" she asked in disbelief.

'It's always the ugly ones' Ruth snapped in annoyance.

 Unfortunately, no one could hear her.

"As everyone knows, my descendants do not have what it takes to protect my family name. It's only natural that I look elsewhere for a solution." 

Surprisingly Adin Ross didn't back down. He stood straight with his head held high while he spoke with confidence. The old patriarch didn't care about the words of men who would be left in the dust once the talent of the new Ross family was revealed.

They were bound to crawl back and struggle for his favor so he didn't mind staying patient and enduring whatever ridicule came from his decision.

"And your heirs? They allow this?" Baroness Silvercrest raised a brow.

This was the only middle-aged man amongst the trio, but even he was average at best in terms of appearance. The only outstanding feature this man had been his silver hair—Silas suspected that was where the family name was coined.

"Their opinion does not matter." Silas finally spoke up but in his usual dull tone. "

Another wave of murmurs. Some are in shock, and others are in disbelief. Did this nobody who only made his debut in the world of nobles tonight speak up while his elders were speaking?

 "IMPUDENT BRAT. DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE SPEAK..."

"You are in the house of Ross—my house. Stay silent." Silas' voice was calm and firm.

Buzz!

Glances were exchanged, but before they could speak the doors of the Grand Hall swung open, allowing the cold breeze of the night to pour into her Ross family Castle.

"Your opinions matter little, just like the opinions of the sons of the Ross family. You were only needed as witnesses. Now that is over, get out!" Silas didn't mince his words.

He was a Baron just like them so they couldn't harm them.

Silence fell in the room and Silas remained still on the throne. His hands rested lightly on the arms of the chair, his fingers barely curling over the edge. His face held no emotion, only the quiet weight of the moment. 

The nobles glanced at Adin Ross, waiting for him to reprimand this cocky beat, yet it never came. Instead, he gestures toward the door with his hands while his eyes hold a distant look.

"Let it be known that from this day forth, Silas is the patriarch of House Ross. Anyone who challenges his right to rule will have to get through me first." 

A silence stretched across the hall. A challenge was expected. It was inevitable.

These nobles shot vicious glares at Silas and then Adin Ross before walking out of the room and never turning back. As of today, the Ross family has isolated itself even from the rest of the world. It could only rely on the boy who they took in barely a week ago, and this was what Silas wanted.

A situation where he would be the only one the family could rely on.

That was the only way he could