*Liam*
Most years, I looked forward to the months we spent in the capital, far from the quiet ache of home. It was always just me and my brothers, sometimes my father if he bothered to join us. But this time was different. For as long as I could remember, Grandfather Henry had never left Solaris, always haunting the old estate on my mother’s side. Now, with him here, the city itself seemed to press down on me, the air thick and uneasy.
I tried to shake the heaviness from my mind and turned back to Alphonse, my little palomino. His pale coat shimmered in the morning light, legs fading to near-black at the hooves. I ran the brush through his mane, untangling knots with slow, careful strokes, and cleaned the dirt from his hooves. The servants had long since stopped trying to take this task from me. Grooming Alphonse was the only thing that ever seemed to settle my nerves, a small ritual that belonged only to us.
When Alphonse was finally ready, I saddled him and glanced over at my brothers. They stood together, feeding their horses, their laughter sharp and careless. A few sparrows hopped around their feet, pecking at the scattered grain. Peter and Pascal were already bickering about whose horse cost more, their voices rising and falling like a tired refrain. Percy, meanwhile, had taken to hurling stones at the sparrows. The birds chirped in protest, wings fluttering, until one fell silent in the grass. Percy grinned, a twisted pride lighting his face.
I felt my stomach knot, the old nausea rising, and fumbled for the medicine I kept tucked away for moments like this. Sometimes I thought about begging Father to let me stay behind at the estate, but lately, he could barely stand to look at me. I was always too small, too soft, never “manly” enough. My teachers praised me, but it never mattered. Everything started unraveling after Mother died. That was when the world began to tilt.
It happened just after my tenth birthday. Some of my presents still sat unopened, ribbons yet untouched. She had fallen down the stairs in the night, and no one found her until morning. I remember waking up, eager to see the foal I’d been given, only to find her lying at the bottom of the stairs, pale and still. That was the only day I ever saw my father cry.
The image of the broken sparrow tangled with memories of my mother, and I bolted for the tent, leaving Alphonse blinking after me. Even with the medicine, I barely made it to an empty bucket before my stomach gave out. I drank a whole bottle of water, took another dose, and waited for the trembling in my legs to fade. When I finally stepped outside, Alphonse was waiting, his nose poking through the tent flap, eyes wide and gentle. He pawed at the earth, tearing up grass, restless and eager to run.
With a sigh, I led Alphonse back toward my brothers. There was no one else for me here, not in the capital. Alphonse was the only friend I had, but I couldn't risk being seen talking to a horse instead of my own blood, not at a family event. My brothers barely glanced my way, lost in their own games. To them, I was already invisible, no threat at all to what they believed was theirs by right.
While I waited for the hunt to begin, a new carriage rolled up, drawing every eye. Out stepped Ruby Yuwen and her husband, Janus. When I first heard that the infamous bachelor of House Yuwen had finally married, I thought it was just another rumor. He’d spent years chasing pleasure, never settling, and now, suddenly, he had a wife and two children. Everyone whispered about the woman who had tamed him. I imagined some towering force of nature, or maybe a cunning enchantress, but instead, she was like something out of a dream. Petite, barely reaching Janus’s shoulder—my own height, really—with skin and hair so pale they seemed to catch the light. My brothers would have only seen her sizable chest, but I couldn’t look away from her face. It was almost unreal, so beautiful I wondered if I was still awake. And her eyes—those eyes could burn right through you.
People used to tell me I was beautiful, sometimes even too beautiful for a boy, which always made Father scowl. My hair was golden, my eyes the same shade as the family crest, but next to her, I felt like a dandelion beside a rose—ordinary, forgettable.
For a moment, I thought she might come our way, but instead she slipped from Janus's side and joined the women gathered on the hill, their laughter drifting down like music. I watched her go, envy curling in my chest as she climbed, light as a feather.
I let out a breath and turned away, catching sight of Janus laughing with his brothers, their arms thrown around each other as if nothing in the world could touch them. My heart felt heavy, so I let my gaze fall to Alphonse, the only one who seemed to notice I was there.
Until the tip of a cane touched my shoulder.
I jumped as if a ghost had brushed my shoulder, spinning around to find the last person I wanted to see: Grandfather Henry. He looked smaller than I remembered, his back bent beneath the weight of his jeweled coat, hair white as frost. But his eyes—those eyes hadn’t changed at all. He wasn’t alone. Anna Yuwen stood beside him, steadying his arm against her chest, her smile practiced and prideful. The sight of him made my stomach twist all over again.
My brothers stared at Anna, their eyes wide and unashamed, but she only smiled, pressing Grandfather's arm closer, as if daring them to look. Henry ignored them all, his attention fixed on me.
“Would you walk with me a bit if there is something I have to tell you?”
His voice was steady, too strong for the frail body it came from, but I was used to that by now. I wanted to refuse, to walk away and never look back, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
“Yes, Grandfather.”
He smiled, just a little. He always made me say it, even though he made me hate the word on my tongue. Still, if I played along, maybe I could escape whatever he had planned.
“Anna, would you leave us alone for a bit?”
It wasn't really a question, more an order. Anna's eye twitched, her lips pressed tight, but she let go of his arm and stepped aside. She was angry, but neither of us paid her any mind. My head was spinning with questions, but mostly with fear—would he really do something here, with so many people around? I took her place and led Henry back to his tent, leaving Alphonse behind, his ears flicking in confusion.
We didn’t talk during our walk, and once inside, he quickly pulled the tent flaps closed.
He sighed, then straightened and hung his cane on a tent pole. The frail old man vanished, replaced by the Henry I had learned to fear, who took sure steps around me, looking me up and down like an exhibit. I knew then there was no escape, even as every part of me wanted to run, to hide, to call for help. But I just stood there, frozen in the middle of his tent.
“Have you thought about my offer?”
He suddenly asked, breaking the heavy silence effortlessly.
“I-I ca… I won’t do it. I have no desire for the title.”
It was a lie. The truth was, I wanted the title more than anything, but it would mean staying in Solaris, trapped. Next year, I would come of age and finally be free to leave. Seven more years, and maybe then he would lose his hold on me. It was a childish hope, but it was all I had left.
He frowned, just for a heartbeat, before his face went blank, save for that simmering anger I knew too well. He stepped closer and said,
“Take your shirt off.”
For a moment, I froze, hoping that with so many people nearby, he wouldn't go through with it. But one look at his eyes told me hope was useless. My hands shook as I undid the buttons, and when I finished, he yanked the shirt away, exposing the negligee he'd made me wear all day.
“Good, as I can see, you are a good boy, Liam.”
His words made me shiver and close to tears, but I forced myself to stay upright, refusing to let him see me break.
“It was quite expensive, but it looks good on you. Now look me in the eyes.”
I tried to look away but he took my chin in his rough, wrinkled hand. He forced me to look into his eyes and then his tongue into my mouth. I tried to resist, clenching my teeth, but he yanked my ponytail back until I had to give in. When it was over, I collapsed onto the floor, breathless, tears streaming down my cheeks, my golden curls spilling across my bare back.
“Ah, now you look exactly like my dear Josephine.”
He'd said that for seven years now, and I still didn't understand. Josephine was his wife, long dead, and her hair had been brown, not gold. Still, sometimes he called me by her name. I was still gasping for air when he dragged me to my feet.
“Always so disobedient, yet your body is honest.”
What I hated most was how my body betrayed me. Henry could rot in the darkest pit forever and it still wouldn't be enough, but my body never listened. It betrayed me, again and again.
Henry yanked my pants down, exposing me, then shoved me onto the bed. I tried, one last time, to get away, but he forced me down into the sheets and took what he wanted.
Time slipped by in a haze, the hours blurring together until I was nothing but a trembling, broken thing. My face was pressed into the pillow, damp with tears and snot, the fabric still holding the echo of my muffled cries. I tried to move, but my body felt distant, numb from the waist down, and every small shift sent a sharp, familiar sting through me. He watched me struggle before putting his hand on my shoulder, as if he took some twisted pleasure in my weakness. Then, with an annoyed click of his tongue, a warm green light flickered to life, washing away the pain in an instant. It should have been a relief, but it only left me emptier, as it washed away his crimes.
I sank back onto the bed, curling in on myself, arms wrapped tight around my chest. There was nothing left inside me—no tears, no anger, just a hollow exhaustion that pressed down on my bones. Outside, the world erupted into chaos. Screams tangled with the frantic cries of horses and the wild panic of animals, all swirling together in a storm I could barely comprehend. Henry’s smile only grew, stretching wider, as if he had been waiting for this.
“Hehehe, it looks like it started.”
I stared at him, confusion clouding my thoughts, but he only tossed my clothes at me with a careless flick. Then he slipped out of the tent, leaving the monster behind and stepping back into the world as nothing more than a frail, withered old man.