Chapter 611: A Kindness
“My brother held me first when I was born,” Cian said, a hint of sentiment in his eyes. “My parents told him I was his responsibility, to keep me alive until he died.” He paused. “Sometimes I wonder why this happened to him. The firstborn son is always the heir, the one who gets everything. But because of what happened to our family, he became a victim.”
Hannah listened quietly, unable to judge.
“Actually, Oscar cried as a child,” Cian revealed.
Hannah was surprised. She’d never seen Oscar cry, and hadn’t thought him capable of it.
“My aunt told me,” Cian explained. “My parents are cold, perhaps intentionally so, they don’t often show vulnerability. My aunt does. Do you know who my aunt is?”
“Justine,” Hannah replied. Oscar hadn’t told her, but it was obvious. Manuel was their cousin; Justine, Manuel’s mother, was their aunt. Hannah had always sensed something different about Justine, something more than the other upper-class ladies. She was, in fact, royalty.
“Yes, her original name is Justine Wells. She changed her surname to avoid attention. Manuel’s last name should also be Wells.” Hannah sensed a possessiveness in Cian’s emphasis on their surnames, a cherishing of their limited family.
“Back to business,” Cian said, realizing he’d digressed. “My aunt told me that when Oscar was a child, during his first wilderness training, he was ordered to kill small animals with a knife. He cried each time he struck, but he didn’t stop. He knew if he stopped, there would be more. And those animals were so cute and harmless.”
A pang of sympathy struck Hannah. She couldn’t imagine that scene: a boy crying, a bloody knife. Oscar must have been in deep despair.
“My brother and I had very different upbringings. After I was born, I stayed with my parents, receiving intensive education. I was locked in the study every day, receiving all kinds of instruction. I had self-defense training, of course, but it was nothing compared to Oscar’s. He’s the most capable man our family has produced. Not only is he a skilled fighter, but he’s also highly intelligent. He holds numerous certificates, including his law degree. He's the best of our descendants. In a peaceful time, he would have been the greatest king.”
“But he’s not the heir,” Cian continued. “He shed blood to clear the path for me, to put me on the throne. I considered giving up, quitting. Many in our family suggested changing the heir when they saw Oscar’s abilities. They all thought he was more qualified. I even feigned depression and autism, but it didn't work. I remained the heir. They said it was because he was too bloodthirsty; an heir couldn't be like that, couldn't have such strong emotions.”
Hannah now understood Oscar’s comment about Cian’s suffering. Outwardly unaffected, Cian carried great inner pain.
“And I got beaten up by Oscar many times,” Cian said, a sudden smile brightening his face. The gravity of his previous words seemed to dissipate. “Every time I said I didn’t want to be the heir, he’d beat me up, then coax me and put ointment on my wounds. He’s always cold and aloof, but after beating me, he’d be gentle and calm me down.”
Hannah sensed a subtle boast of Oscar’s kindness.
“I always think he treats me best. Everyone nice to me has an agenda—my parents, those followers—except him. He loves me unconditionally. Even if he hated me, I’d love him; he’s always been good to me.”
“Because he knows you’re not doing well,” Hannah stated frankly.
Their bond was truly exceptional. They saw each other’s suffering and supported one another unconditionally; a rarity amongst the elite, especially within a royal family.
“So I don’t feel guilty anymore,” Cian added.
“Guilty about what?” Hannah asked.
He was already veering off-topic.
“I don’t feel guilty for causing him so much pain. Without me, he couldn’t pursue his love. As heir, he couldn’t wholeheartedly love someone. The heir has too many responsibilities. Love is the first thing sacrificed.” Cian smiled happily. “You two can be together because he isn’t the heir.”
Hannah blushed. Their closeness was undeniable, but discussing it openly embarrassed her.
“By the way,” Cian said, producing a bracelet, “Oscar didn’t tell me you were coming, so I didn’t have time to prepare. It’s my mother’s favorite bracelet. It’s yours now.”