Chapter 378: My Name?

The child thought things would get better. That was what grown-ups always said, anyway. If he behaved. If he stayed quiet. If he didn't get in the way.Then his father brought a new woman home.

She smiled too much, the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. And she didn't come alone. There was a boy with her—Julius. He was bigger than Arian, louder too, and he walked around the house as if he owned it from the very first day.

Arian tried to be good about it. He really did. He stayed out of the way, kept his toys, or whatever remained of them, in his room, and spoke only when spoken to. But it didn't matter. He did not know if he preferred being scolded and loathed over being completely ignored.

One day, during dinner, his father said Julius would be the heir.

He didn't know exactly what an heir was, only that it sounded important. Important enough that everyone smiled at Julius.

His question of whether being scolded was better than being ignored would be answered in the following days.

His father barely spoke to him anymore. When he did, it was sharp and impatient, like it was already decided that he had done something wrong.

Julius noticed everything.

Sometimes Julius took his things and hid them, then laughed when he cried. Sometimes he told him he didn't belong there. That this wasn't his house anymore. Once, when no one else was around, Julius leaned close and whispered that he was just a leech, sucking up space that should've been his.

He wasn't supposed to leave his room.

That rule had always been there, but after Julius arrived, it stopped being a rule and became absolute. His father didn't say it out loud, but he could tell—he wanted people to forget he existed. And slowly, they did.

Some days, no one brought him food.

At first, Arian thought they were just late. He sat on his bed and waited, swinging his legs, staring at the door. But the light outside would change, and his stomach would start to hurt, and still no one came. By nighttime, he'd curl up under the blanket, dizzy and quiet, pretending he wasn't hungry anymore.

Once in a while, when the house was busy, he'd sneak out.

He was careful. Bare feet so the floor wouldn't creak. He didn't go far—just to the kitchen, just to grab something small. Bread. Fruit. Anything.

But Julius noticed.

He always noticed.

Some days he would let him get away with the stolen food, some days... Some days, he had to sleep on an empty stomach again.

However, one day, Julius was not being his 'merciful' self.

That day, Arian was halfway down the hall when Julius found him. Julius's face twisted the second he saw him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he shouted.

Arian flinched. His hands tightened around the small bunch of flowers he'd picked from the garden. They were a little wilted, but they were the only ones he could reach.

"I—I just—" His voice came out small. "I need to go out."

Julius stepped in front of him. "Go back. Now."

Arian shook his head.

It was the anniversary of his mother's death. He didn't know what anniversary really meant, only that this was the day she didn't come back. He just wanted to put the flowers on her grave. Just for a moment.

"I have to," he whispered.

Julius's face went dark.

"Nothing but an embaressment who does not know his place." Julius echoed his father's words perfectly... Down to the tone. This made him shiver but he could not back down.

Before Arian could move, Julius shoved him. Hard. Arian stumbled and nearly fell. The flowers slipped from his grip, petals scattering across the floor.

"Didn't I tell you to go back?" Julius yelled.

Arian tried to run.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, heart pounding, chest burning. He tried to yell, but no sound came out—just a broken noise stuck in his throat.

Julius caught him easily.

The first hit knocked the air out of him. The next made his head spin. Arian curled in on himself, arms up, crying without realising it.

And then something inside him snapped.

He didn't think. He didn't plan. He just swung his small fist as hard as he could.

It landed on Julius's face.

For a second, everything stopped.

Then Julius screamed.

"You little—!" Julius clutched his nose, eyes watering, and bolted down the hall. "Father! Father!"

He stood there shaking, staring at his own hand. It hurt. Everything hurt.

He picked up the flowers. Or whatever was left of them.

He didn't even get three steps before a servant grabbed him. Strong hands dragged him away, fingers digging into his arms. The flowers fell again. He tried to look back, but the servant didn't let him.

His father was waiting.

Arian stood there, bruised and shaking, holding the crushed stems in his hands. His lip hurt. His arm hurt. One eye felt swollen. He waited for his father to ask what happened. He waited to explain his side, but that chance never came.

His father didn't even look at him properly.

The slap came out of nowhere.

It was so hard his head snapped to the side. His ears rang, a loud, painful buzzing that made the room tilt. He almost fell.

"Even if he hits you, you will take it," his father said coldly. "Because that is your position."

He stared at the floor. He couldn't hear properly. His hands were shaking so badly that the flowers slipped from his fingers.

"You are not worthy of respect. Of love. Or of attention, and definitely not worthy to visit her grave," his father continued. "Get that through your head."

Arian's heart beat faster. He did not want to keep watching it, but he had to. He wanted to know his name, what was his name? They did not even mention it once. He could tell they were trying to dehumanise him by never calling him by his name.