Where Grief and Duty Meet

At twelve, Grandmama sent him to apprentice under a blacksmith for three months. His palms blistered, his arms ached, and the forge heat made him dizzy. But he learned. He forged nails, horseshoes, and simple tools. He came home with burns, scars, and a proud smile.

He worked in a bakery after that. Then as a messenger. A stable boy. A candle-maker's assistant.

Along the way, he also learned horseback riding, archery, the use of various weapons, and all the essentials expected of a crown prince and future ruler.

All before he turned fifteen.

Every hardship was by design. Every lesson carved with purpose.

By then, he had grown into someone capable, disciplined, sharp, and far older than his years. The boy who once played in the herb garden was nearly a man.

He was only eighteen when it happened.

His mother, Empress Adelia, passed away under mysterious circumstances.