Khaliq stepped back into Jacob's room, the dim light casting a somber glow over the space. He held a black cup of tea in both hands, the steam barely visible. Draped over his arm was a damp, black face towel. Without a word, he approached Jacob's bedside. Jacob, propped against his headboard, blinked sluggishly. His pale face was slick with sweat, strands of his hair clinging to his forehead.
Khaliq knelt beside him, pulling the cold towel from his arm. Gently, he brushed Jacob's hair back, pressing the damp cloth against his burning forehead. The contrast of the chilled fabric against the feverish skin made Jacob shiver slightly.
Khaliq then lifted the cup, holding it carefully to Jacob's lips. Jacob blinked, his eyes flickering between the dark liquid and Khaliq's solemn face.
"It's cold?" Jacob asked. "Samuidesu."
"Yes, just like you like it. Now drink," Khaliq replied. "Hai, anata no sukina yō ni. Sā nonde."
Jacob obediently sipped as Khaliq tilted the cup, the sweet taste settling on his tongue. With each sip, the warmth of his brother's presence seemed to seep through the icy exterior. As the familiar figure before him became clearer, recognition softened Jacob's gaze.
"Thank you, little brother," Jacob said, his voice soft. "Arigatō otōto."
Reaching out with a trembling hand, Jacob attempted to ruffle Khaliq's hair in a familiar gesture. But Khaliq recoiled, swatting his hand away with a sharp slap.
"Don't touch me," Khaliq snapped. "Sawaranaide kudasai."
His jaw tightened as he averted his gaze, his expression unreadable.
"This is not a special favor," Khaliq said coldly. "I'm only doing it because I must." "Kore wa tokubetsuna onegaide wa naku, yaranakereba naranaikara yatte iru dakedesu."
The words stung. Jacob's eyes darkened, a flicker of irritation beneath the frailty. He turned away, his voice low but pointed.
"You're right, I don't need you to do anything for me, I'm fine." "Sōdesune, anata ni nani mo shite itadaku hitsuyō wa arimasen, watashi wa daijōbudesu."
Khaliq scoffed, his face twisting into a sneer.
"Hmph, then grow up and figure it out yourself." "Fun, sorenara otona ni natte jibun de kaiketsu shiro yo."
Without warning, Khaliq opened his hand, letting the cup fall. The cold tea splashed across Jacob's chest, soaking his shirt and covers. The shock of the icy liquid made Jacob gasp. Before he could react, Khaliq snatched the small diary from Jacob's lap. With a swift motion, he hurled it to the ground.
"While you're at it, go get your faulty mind checked out, sick dog." "Tsuideni jibun no kokoro no kekkan mo shirabete oke yo, byōki no inu-me."
His lips curled in satisfaction at the sight of Jacob's stunned expression. Without another glance, Khaliq spun on his heel and strode out of the room, the door creaking as it shut behind him.
Jacob trembled, the chill from the tea sinking into his skin. His shaking hands fumbled to lift the cup from his lap, placing it on the bedside table. He swallowed thickly, the heat rising to his face as shame and anger twisted inside him. As the weight of the moment bore down on him, he sat back up from his slight lean. A violent cough tore through him, wracking his frail body. His hands flew to his neck, clutching it as though to steady himself against the pain. Each gasp burned, his chest heaving in struggle. His eyes clenched shut, tears threatening to spill, but he forced himself to endure the wave of agony until it passed.
When the fit subsided, he wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand, his eyes watering. Despite the ache that pulsed through him, he reached for the diary. The leather cover was creased from the fall, but the pages remained intact. With a trembling grip, Jacob flipped it open to the last page he had read.
His gaze lingered on the familiar words, his expression shadowed with melancholy. Ignoring the lingering sting of his brother's words, Jacob continued to read, the memories within the diary pulling him further into their depths.
A lot of things have changed. A lot of things were … different before, when my brother and I grew up. I was the firstborn of my brothers. My father's seed was nothing but males; that's a curse that runs in the bloodline of the Umbravians. The day we have a girl is a rare but precious thing.
Jacob is a newborn baby in his mother's arms, who is staring at him with a blank, emotionless expression. Her hair is long, a blend of black and purple, and her eyes are black. Her lips are painted black, and her long black nails fade into a deep red color.
My mother and father are Aurella and Kaelith Prince. Aurella was my father's first wife.
Kaelith, with long black hair cascading down his back in a ponytail, takes the baby from Aurella's arms and smiles sweetly at him, his bright, loving orange eyes full of comfort.
"My son," Kaelith says softly, "you shall be Jacob, Jacob Creed Prince."
Baby Jacob still cries, but Kaelith calms him by rubbing his head, which has barely any hair. He hugs Jacob, pressing his forehead against the tiny one.
I was told that my father gave me my full name. My father always cherished me and loved me dearly, but my mother didn't. I believe she had something deeper than postpartum depression. Maybe it was something I did when I was a child, but all I can remember is, when I was older, she said the meanest things to me—things like I wasn't hers, or that I was a mere mistake.
Jacob, now older, kneels in front of Aurella. His hair is black but unevenly cut, some parts long, others short.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Jacob says, his voice trembling. "Please… I just… want to ask one more time. Will you please, as your son, please accept me?"
Aurella frowns, then hisses at him in disgust. "You are not my son. You are her son. I don't claim you, you dog."
She stands up, holding her hand out in disgust, then backs away from him. With a sharp scream, she calls out as if she's being abused.
"SOMEBODY GET HIM AWAY FROM ME, PLEASE!"
Jacob looks up at her, frowning. Kaelith enters the room then, snatching Jacob up off the ground. He slams him against the wall, holding his long blade to Jacob's neck. Jacob pants, glaring at Aurella.
Kaelith speaks calmly, his voice steady. "I didn't accept you to become a troublemaker, Jacob."
Jacob smirks despite the tension. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Father. I don't have to deal with this."
Kaelith presses the sword harder against Jacob's neck.
"No matter what, you are my son," Kaelith says, his eyes locking onto Jacob's with a promise. "Stay away from your mother, and don't you hurt her, or I'll kill you. Do you understand me?"
Jacob stares into his father's eyes with anger, but his gaze softens as he looks down in submission.
"Yes, Father," he mutters.
Kaelith snatches him up and throws him to the ground.
"Apologize to your mother," Kaelith demands. "Bow to her, you dog."
"Yes, sir." Jacob kneels and bows humbly. "I'm sorry, Mother, for my disrespect."
Aurella looks down at him, her expression cold.
"Apology unaccepted," she says with a sinister laugh. She rubs Kaelith's arm as she walks past him. "Thank you, my king. Now get him. Please, take him out of my sight. I'd rather die alone than ever see him again."
Kaelith walks, following her out, his eyes glinting with malice as he looks at Jacob one last time.
She always made my father turn against me and made him believe that I intended only the worst for my mother when I never harmed a hair on her head. But no matter, my father still claimed me, and no matter how strange it sounds, he always cheered me up.
After the last scene, Jacob sits in his room, facing backward in a chair, his head resting on his arms, which are draped over the back of the chair. He bites his lip, fighting back his emotions. The door creaks open, a crack of light shining into the room. Jacob looks up, upset, and kicks a black suitcase with his foot.
"I'm leavin' so…" he shrugs, shaking his head. "You don't have to worry about me bein' here." He looks away.
Kaelith stands in the doorway, staring at him, but Jacob's head remains turned. Kaelith walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder. Jacob looks up.
"Why do you feel that way?" Kaelith asks, his voice sad and pleading. "You don't ever have to leave."
Jacob shakes his head. "You and my mother, you tricked me into this when you just still hate me," he says, biting his lip as he looks around, contemplating. He stands up and moves to grab his suitcase, but Kaelith kicks it out of reach.
"Son," Kaelith says softly, "why are you acting this way? I don't understand."
Jacob looks up at him, a hurt frown on his face. "You don't understand?" he repeats, his voice trembling. "You've always been so hateful." He turns to walk away, but Kaelith grabs his arm. Jacob looks sideways at him.
Kaelith's face changes, becoming serious but still soft-hearted. "Listen, I never said I hated you," he says. Jacob closes his eyes tightly. "I'm not in denial about how your mother feels, but she—"
"She fears me," Jacob interrupts.
"She does," Kaelith admits, speaking lowly. "And in order to change that, you have to stop threatening her. But the hatred and rift between you and your mother—" He squints, his expression sincere. "Doesn't mean I hate you. You are my firstborn son."
Kaelith suddenly pulls Jacob into a tight hug.
"I must do what I can as a father protecting his family," Kaelith says, his eyes closed and a warm smile on his face. "But I will always love you, Jacob." He opens his eyes, his voice shaking. "Please, give me that."
Jacob's eyes soften, filled with mixed emotions. Slowly, he wraps his arms around his father, hugging him back.
"… Thank you, Father," Jacob says quietly, closing his eyes with a little guilt on his face. "I'm sorry for my anger."
"There's no need to apologize," Kaelith replies gently. "You owe me nothing, my son." He kisses the side of Jacob's head before letting him go, placing his hands on Jacob's shoulders. "How about you go eat your dinner while it's warm, hm?"
Jacob laughs a little, his face barely smiling, still solemn as he shakes his head, looking away shyly. "Nah, I'm good, Father, but thank you."
"But I made sure my ladies made steak and greens, and turkey potpie," Kaelith insists, tilting his head with an innocent, sweet smile. "Your favorite?"
A small smile spreads across Jacob's face. He bashfully glances up, embarrassed yet happy at Kaelith's persistence. "Alright, if you want me to."
Kaelith laughs happily. "That's my son," he says, ruffling Jacob's hair and squinting at him as though he adores him. "He's always been the sweetheart boy, hm?"
Jacob pulls Kaelith's hand down, smirking but not making eye contact, his face flushed with extreme embarrassment. "Father, please."
Kaelith laughs softly. "Alright, go now." Jacob starts to walk toward the door. "And promise me…" Kaelith's expression changes, becoming serious. "…You'll do the best you can to never leave?"
Jacob pauses, looking back with a soft smile.
"I promise," he says, his eyes shaking, touched by his father's question. "Thanks for caring." He looks down and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Kaelith smiles softly, watching him leave. Then he looks down, his smile fading as he reflects.
Even though I knew my father would kill me, I always felt he had a good heart somewhere inside, and somehow, it felt like I completely understood him. But unfortunately, my father wasn't always around—he was busy—and the rest of my family, all of my brothers, hated me.
Jacob was walking toward the royal dining room when suddenly, he was slammed against the wall. A hand gripped the front of his shirt, yanking him back.
Nex, a young male with red hair streaked with white and long, flowing past his waist, sneered at him. "What are you doing here? You're not one of us."
"I don't know," Jacob replied, his voice sharp. "Maybe you could ask Father. He's on his way to meet us in the diner."
Nex hissed, his eyes narrowing with a deadly gleam. He smirked, leaning in closer. "I don't really care. At the end of the day, everybody knows who you are. So maybe just stay out of the royals' way, you piece of crap." He spat on Jacob's face and let him go, walking away with a satisfied look.
Jacob stood there for a moment, wiping the spit off his face. A frown tugged at his lips as he continued walking, a cloud of insecurity hanging over him.
The way their eyes stared at me, it made me feel that I didn't have any worth. I had no position in my father's kingdom… I didn't belong anywhere.
As Jacob entered the vast royal dining room, the red carpets stretched out before him, and white circle tables were set across the room. Umbravians filled the space, taking their dance in the center of the royal ballroom. The air was thick with music, and as Jacob passed through the crowd, every Umbravian, including his brothers, hissed and stared him down. They moved swiftly, as if any part of him might contaminate their royal majesty.
If there were anyone—just a single soul—who noticed me, I'd say… one.
Jacob scanned the room, looking for someone to dance with, but it seemed every girl was already taken. His expression fell, and he looked down, rubbing his hair back in frustration. He glanced toward the dining area, ready to take a seat, but before he could move, a fragile woman suddenly hugged him around the shoulders from behind.
She had smooth brown skin, long red curly hair in a braid, adorned with a white delicate flower by her ear, some strands framing her beautiful face. Her pretty, soft brown eyes sparkled as she pulled him close.
Her name was Hope—my father's last wife.
"Is my handsome prince without a hand in the ball?" Hope asked, her voice warm and teasing.
Jacob's eyes softened as he looked away, feeling the warmth of her arms around his neck. He placed his hands over her arms.
"Nah, maybe the beast," he said, turning around to face her, putting a hand on her face and smiling softly. "But you're the only one who can see beauty, don't you, Belle?"
Hope laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand before coughing a little. Jacob immediately placed his arms around her, gently patting her back.
"Easy now, easy now, baby. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Hope coughed again, a hand over her mouth. "I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse. "Just a cough that never goes away. Not even with the nastiest cough medicine." She smiled and softly giggled.
Jacob laughed a little, shaking his head. "Come on, that's so not funny, girl." He wiped her mouth and nose with the back of his hand. "Father let you off work, love?"
"Yes," Hope replied, her voice mockingly deep as she raised her fist, "he said, 'Today is enjoy day.'" She shrugged, smiling playfully.
Jacob raised an eyebrow, smiling as he gently brushed her hair out of her face. "I see… So he set you up on a date?"
Hope laughed softly. "No, I wouldn't say that. I think he's got a lot of ladies who've been crying for a dance."
Jacob looked out across the room and spotted his father, Kaelith, who was standing with his hand on his chin, trying to decide which of his wives to dance with. The women all looked hopeful, eagerly calling out, "Me!"
Hope smiled and looked in Kaelith's direction. "I think he's spent this whole week tending to me. Much to my surprise, Creed."
Jacob smirked. "Hmph. I say he needs to spend the rest of his life beside you. At least that'll stop the headaches."
Hope giggled, and Jacob laughed softly. Hope grabbed his hands and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling.
"Will you dance with me, Handsome?"
Jacob's cheeks turned pink, and he laughed shyly. "I may."
They began to ballroom dance together. Jacob lifted her by her arms, standing her on his feet, holding her close as they moved across the floor. Hope's head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Her eyes narrowed in thought.
"Jay… my son," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "Your heart is beating a little slow. What's bothering you?"
Jacob rested his chin on top of her head. "Nothin', honey."
"Jacob—"
"Seriously, I'm fine," Jacob reassured her. "Just enjoying the dance."
Hope looked up at him, her brow furrowing. "Then why is your heart beating slow? Every time it does, it means something's wrong." He looked away, quiet. She pressed him further. "Tell me, Creed. What is it you want to say?"
Jacob sighed, reluctant. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd, finally spotting Kaelith in the distance, dancing with one of his wives. Jacob put his head down, their foreheads touching as he whispered, "I just… I've been wanting to know the reason why… Why did you marry my father?" He squinted, his worry clear. "What is he using you for?"
Hope blinked, then smiled. "Using?" She laughed softly and shook her head. "That's what you think when you see him with me?" She paused, her smile softening. "Let me tell you…" She shook her head slowly. "I don't know why he asked me, but... I said yes."
Jacob frowned. "Why?"
Hope looked into his eyes, her gaze sincere. "Because I love Kaelith… Jacob." She smiled gently.
Jacob shook his head, disbelief and confusion in his eyes. "Why… would you love… someone like my father? He's... done nothing but hurt you—"
"Shh, shh," Hope whispered, placing a finger on his lips. "I know, I know… Kaelith has hurt me… more than once, I know… but…" Her brows furrowed slightly as she looked down, blinking. "Kaelith... loves me… more than any other man I've met in my lifetime."
Jacob looked at her, his gaze flickering between confusion and understanding. "How… how do you know?"
Hope looked up at him and smiled softly. "I assure you, my Creed, Kaelith—" She shook her head slowly, still smiling, as she locked eyes with him. "—has a lot of conflict going on up there… but I know a good man when I see one, and I know he loves me."
Jacob stared at her for a moment, then looked down, lost in thought. His expression softened. "I understand… You've lived all these years… You know more than me, mother."
Suddenly, he felt a light nudge on his stomach. "Ugh," he frowned, looking between himself and Hope. "What the…?"
Hope smiled and tilted her head. "Feeling the kicks now?"
Jacob looked down at her bulging stomach, his eyes softening with realization. "Wait…" He touched her stomach, his eyes wide with amazement and joy. "Oh my God, you're having a baby! Why didn't you tell me?"
Hope grinned. "My question, why haven't you noticed?"
Jacob laughed a little, rubbing his hair, blushing and smiling. "I didn't." He scoffed, holding her by her sides, smiling brightly. "I'm so happy for you, Mother." He looked side to side. "So, is it a boy or a—"
"You don't have to ask," she teased.
They both laughed, and Jacob hugged her tightly, spinning with her.
"Oh my God, another bone-headed brother," Jacob groaned, lifting her up and placing her back on the ground. "Except from you," he added with a grin, "which makes it a lot better."
Hope smiled softly, rubbing his face. "Makes you daydream about your own someday, hm?"
Jacob's cheeks flushed, and he laughed softly, rubbing his face shyly. "I don't know. I'm not ready kids at all."
Hope giggled. "I love my shy boy," she said, rubbing his hair and pulling a piece of it out of his mouth. "It keeps him beautiful."
Kaelith walked up, grabbing Hope's hand.
"My queen, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
Hope looked up at him as he cupped her face. "Yes, love, I'm okay."
Kaelith smiled softly, blushing, and kissed her nose. "Come have dinner with me," he said, holding out his hand.
Hope took his hand, and as they left, she looked back at Jacob and gave him a warm smile. Jacob smiled back, putting his fingers together in a gesture of thanks. When they disappeared into the crowd, Jacob rubbed his hair and looked down, feeling a sense of melancholy settle over him.
Out of all of my father's women, she became the center of his attention. Even though he treated her not so right at times, his love for her swam deep beneath the surface, deeper than the deep end of our shores.
Jacob walked quietly, slipping away from the diner and ballroom. His footsteps echoed softly in the corridor as he stopped to glance back. In the dining area, he saw Kaelith feeding Hope a forkful of chocolate cake.
Kaelith, with his usual grace, held the fork high. "God, satisfy the soul of my most adored." He fed the cake to Hope, who smiled, leaning on her hand, amused by him.
Jacob laughed softly to himself, shaking his head, and then wrapped his arms around himself as he continued walking away, feeling the loneliness settle deep inside.
To be honest, I couldn't wait until she had that baby, even though I knew it was going to be another bone-headed boy.
Later, Jacob knelt in his room, the room bathed in darkness. His prayers filled the silence.
"God, please…" he whispered desperately, his voice cracking. "Let me be the first to hold my newborn brother. Let him love me… more than all of my brothers. Just, please," he whispered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, "let at least… one person like me. I know I'm not a good person, but… this baby…" He placed his hand over his heart. "Please give his heart to me…"
Jacob slowly lifted his head, his eyes searching the glass ceiling, where the stars shimmered in the night sky. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke to the vastness above him. "I just want somebody to love me, God…"
And just as he prayed, a sudden sound cut through the air—a woman's scream of labor.
Jacob's eyes snapped open, wide with shock.
"Mother…" he breathed, his heart racing. "She's having the baby."
Without another thought, he sprang to his feet and rushed out of the room, his mind racing to find her.
(To Be Continued)