Chapter 3: A New Dawn in Eryndor
The soft morning light seeped through the grand, arched windows of the Eryndor estate. The sprawling halls and towering stone walls of the mansion radiated power and prestige, a testament to the family's dominance. But inside, the air was thick with tension.
Whispers traveled like wildfire among the servants and household members. Basil Eryndor, the most despised heir, had done something… unusual.
Not cruel. Not reckless.
Unusual.
In the heart of the estate, Basil sat in his private quarters, his expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. His disheveled appearance—a reminder of the sleepless night spent by the maid's side—didn't match the air of confidence he was trying to project.
Leon, now Basil, stared at the reflection in the ornate mirror.
"So," he muttered under his breath, "you're not just dealing with saving your neck. You're dealing with fixing this entire mess."
He had spent the early hours poring over memories—Basil's memories. They came to him in flashes: drunken escapades, violent outbursts, and the cold glares of a family that had given up on him.
The Eryndor household wasn't an ordinary noble family. It was a dynasty. Lord Eryndor, the head of the family and Basil's father, had forged their prominence through sheer strength and strategy. Yet, the family's internal structure was as complex as the alliances they commanded.
Seven wives. Thirteen children.
Each wife managed her branch of the family, and the children were raised to reflect the family's grandeur—proud, skilled, and loyal. All except Basil, who had become the family's disgrace.
The main wife, Basil's mother, had once been the center of the household. But when Basil had imprisoned her on false charges, she lost her influence and was forced into the shadows. Her only solace was her youngest child, a bright and innocent five-year-old girl, blissfully unaware of her brother's dark reputation.
The second wife, calculating and composed, managed three children: two ambitious sons and a daughter who excelled in diplomacy. The third wife had twin daughters, both prodigies in swordsmanship. The fourth wife, a fierce woman with sharp wit, had two daughters and a son, all trained warriors.
The rest of the wives had a single son each, most of whom pursued military or political careers.
And then there was Basil. The black sheep.
But now, Leon had inherited that legacy, and with it, a chance to rewrite Basil's story.
The tension in the household was palpable as Basil made his way to the dining hall for breakfast. The room was as grand as the estate itself, with a long table set for a feast. Family members were already seated, their conversations halting the moment Basil entered.
The second wife, Lady Elira, glanced at him with her usual cool disdain. Her three children followed suit, their expressions unreadable. The third wife's twins exchanged curious glances, whispering to each other.
Basil met their stares head-on, his posture steady and unyielding.
He walked to his seat near the head of the table, where his father, Lord Eryndor, sat like a king on his throne. The man exuded power, his piercing gaze cutting through anyone who dared challenge him.
"Basil," Lord Eryndor said, his voice calm but laced with an undertone of warning. "I've heard… interesting rumors about your actions last night."
The room went silent.
Basil inclined his head slightly, choosing his words carefully. "I did what was necessary, Father."
"Necessary?" Lord Eryndor's eyes narrowed. "Since when do you consider the life of a servant necessary? You've never cared before."
Basil's jaw tightened. He had expected this reaction.
"With respect, Father," he began, his voice steady, "I understand that my past actions have given you and this family… little to be proud of. But last night, I realized that my recklessness has endangered not only my reputation but the Eryndor name."
Gasps rippled across the table.
"This servant," Basil continued, "was a victim of my negligence. I cannot undo what I've done in the past, but I can ensure that it doesn't bring further disgrace to our family."
The boldness of his words left everyone stunned.
"Spoken like a politician," Viola muttered under her breath, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Basil ignored her jab, focusing on his father. "If that means taking responsibility, then so be it. I will not let the Eryndor name be tarnished further."
Lord Eryndor studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned back in his chair.
"Interesting," he said, his tone neutral. "You're speaking as if you care about this family. I wonder… what prompted this sudden change of heart?"
Basil met his father's gaze, unflinching. "You can believe what you will, Father. But actions speak louder than words."
The room remained silent as Lord Eryndor considered his son's response.
"Very well," he said at last. "Let's see if your actions can back up your words."
After breakfast, the household was abuzz with speculation. The other wives and children exchanged hushed conversations, each one trying to make sense of Basil's behavior.
"Do you think he's sincere?" one of the twin daughters asked her sister.
"Hard to say," the other replied. "But if he is… it could mean trouble for the rest of us."
The younger siblings were less skeptical, though they kept their distance, wary of Basil's reputation. Only the youngest sister, the five-year-old, approached him later that day.
"Big Brother?" she asked, tugging at his sleeve.
Basil looked down, startled. The little girl's bright eyes were filled with curiosity, not fear.
"Yes?" he said, his voice softening.
"Are you feeling okay? You seem… different."
Basil knelt down to her level, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm fine, little one. Just… trying to be better."
Her smile was radiant, and for the first time, Basil felt a flicker of warmth in his chest.
The road ahead would be long and difficult, but if he could win over even one heart, perhaps redemption wasn't entirely out of reach.