Arthur glanced at Dracon, breaking the silence, "How have you been holding up these past few years?"
Yorick scoffed dismissively. "How do you think? The guy's been loafing around, never lifting a finger to do anything worthwhile."
Yorick couldn't help but compare him to his other sons, each carving out their own unique achievements in their chosen fields.
Dracon, meanwhile, remained at home, not even managing to take proper care of the family estate, the Linklater Mansion. His schemes were as transparent as they were numerous.
Just the other week, when Yorick had been poisoned, the investigation had been halted midway. The lack of inquiry didn't mean Dracon was innocent.
But Yorick had stopped digging to protect Dracon. He knew that if the truth of the poisoning reached Arthur, with his fiery temper, Dracon's days would be numbered.
Yorick, a man of integrity, would have made the same decision as Arthur in the past. But years had passed, Arthur and Hector had been away, and only Dracon had stayed by his side. Despite Dracon's failings, he had taken decent care of him.
As he grew old, Yorick longed for family harmony over the anguish of a father burying his son. And so, he had covered for Dracon.
But...
Yorick's eyes involuntarily drifted to Arthur.
Arthur's return could only mean he was here for this very reason. If he decided to investigate, no cover-up would suffice.
The thought alone gave Yorick a headache.
Dracon had wanted to speak up, but hearing such a harsh critique from his father, he sulked into silence.
Arthur's eagle-eyed gaze settled on Dracon for a few seconds before he spoke, "Dad, we all have our paths to maturity. Wasn't I the same clueless kid once upon a time?"
Yorick was taken aback. Arthur had never been one to defend Dracon. He was doing good if he didn't scold him—yet today, he was actually speaking for Dracon?
Could it be he already knew?
Impossible!
Arthur was a soldier, far away on the battlefields where news traveled slowly. Even if Arthur had wanted to investigate something, it would take days, and there was no guarantee he would find anything.
Yorick had kept it under wraps from the start. Even if Arthur wanted to pry, it would take time.
Arthur must be fishing for information!
Realizing this, Yorick shot Dracon a look, signaling him to keep his mouth shut.
But before Yorick could elaborate, Arthur spoke again, "Dracon, don't take Dad's words to heart."
Dracon's eyes widened in disbelief. Was this really his big brother speaking? Was he possessed or something?
In the midst of his silence, Arthur's gaze briefly skimmed over him. "What's wrong? You think I'm not worthy of speaking to you?"
Startled, Dracon quickly retorted, "No, no, Arthur, you got it all wrong. I'm just not used to you being so... nice. And I didn't take Dad's words to heart, I promise."
Arthur's lips curled into a rare smile. "Back in the day, the battlefield hardened me. Now that I'm home for good, I'll shed some of that roughness."
Dracon gasped. "You're staying for good? You're leaving the battlefield?"
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