The Discarded Heir's Return

A hush fell over the great hall of The Gilded Stag Inn, as the afternoon light slanted through the tall arched windows.

Fine dust motes danced in the air, shining on the rich tapestries on the stone walls and the glimmer of polished pewter on the tables.

Arthur Blackwood, a head steward of the inn, knocked gently on the chamber door of one of the esteemed guests. He carried a silver platter bearing a single bowl of rich quail broth.

He wore a simple tunic of rough brown wool, cinched with a worn leather belt. His boots, though clean, were scuffed from years of work.

“Enter,” a man’s voice called out from within.

Arthur pushed the heavy door open, but the sight that greeted him caused him to stop half way.

He knew the man lounging by the hearth, a man wearing a luxurious doublet of deep crimson, embroidered with the crest of House Sterling. This was Lord Gideon, a high-ranking noble.

But the woman, the beautiful woman with her golden hair loose over her shoulders, her simple linen shift clinging to her form, that was Elara, his wife.

The silver platter slipped from Arthur’s numb fingers. The bowl of broth hit the stone floor with a loud clang, shattering into pieces and splattering the broth liquid everywhere.

Just a moment before, Arthur had been curious about the noble who had requested a simple meal delivered directly to his chamber, a rare request in such a prestigious establishment. Little did he know he would find his wife here.

Lord Gideon scowled at the mess, but before he could speak, Elara cried out, her eyes wide with fear.

“Husband! You… what are you doing here?”

Lord Gideon's eyes, full of contempt, swept over Arthur's humble appearance. He let out a scoffing laugh. “Elara, is this your husband? The inn’s servant? Well, if I had known, I would have had my own man-at-arms fetch my meal instead of a commoner.”

Arthur felt a blaze of fury consume him. His voice, usually quiet and respectful, was now filled with a low, controlled rage. “Elara, we have been man and wife for five years. I have worked my fingers to the bone, saved every spare penny, and provided for your every need. I gave you my loyalty, and you… you were never unfaithful. I thought you a woman of principle.” He looked from her to the mocking lord. "What is the meaning of this?”

Elara's fair skin turned pale with horror, but she quickly regained her composure. She stepped forward, an arrogant look on her face. “Do not be a fool, Arthur! This is Lord Gideon of House Sterling! He is here to discuss a business agreement with my father, a grand opportunity for our family. You wouldn't understand.”

Lord Gideon watched with a smirk. “I was going to demand you be thrashed for dropping my meal, but since you are the husband of my future business partner, I will show mercy. I’ll overlook your clumsiness if you apologize to me on your knees.”

Arthur clenched his fists. The gall of this man was gobsmacking. He was demanding an apology after being caught with his wife?

He expected Elara to intervene. To his shock, she didn't. Instead, she stepped between him and the nobleman.

“Apologize to Lord Gideon,” she commanded, her eyes cold. “He is not a man you can afford to offend.”

Arthur’s fury turned to pure pain. His wife was choosing this man's favor over her own husband.

“You have made your choice, Elara,” Arthur said, his voice flat. “But I pray there will not be a day that you will regret this.”

He turned and strode out of the chamber, his heart a very heavy stone in his chest.

As he walked down the corridor, he heard Elara’s sharp, cruel voice ringing out behind him.

“Marrying a common wretch like you is my one true regret!”

Her pleasant, high-pitched voice sounded through the cold stone corridor, but he did not look back.

Instead, he made his way to a secluded, forgotten alley just outside the inn's rear entrance. He sank to the cold, wet ground, his back against the rough stone wall.

He buried his face in his hands, his breath coming out in ragged. For five years, he had held onto the belief that his love was enough. He had rejected his family’s wealth and power for a simple life with the woman he adored. He had endured her snide remarks about his modest income, her impatience with his simple clothes, and her strange insistence on keeping their marriage private. He had convinced himself that her distance was just her being cautious.

He had been a fool. Love wasn't enough. It seemed only wealth and status mattered.

A single tear, hot and bitter, ran down his cheek. He had given up everything he was, everything he had, and for what? A betrayal that had been years in the making. He felt so broken and so lost.

“There you are,” a voice said from behind.

Arthur looked up to see a cloaked figure. He knew that stance, that voice, and the familiar, warm scent of parchment and old books that always followed him.

It was his father’s most trusted courtier, Sir Theron.

Arthur tried to wipe the tears from his face, but it was useless.

“Sir Theron, you shouldn’t be here. You’ll be seen.”

“I’m not worried about being seen by these country bumpkins,” Sir Theron said. He knelt down, the long cloak covering him like a shadow. “I have a message from your father, the Duke. He says that your five-year experiment has officially come to an end.”

Arthur simply nodded, his face a grim mask.

“Your father wishes to know if you enjoyed your time among the common folk. He wants to know if you are prepared to return home or you still happy with the commoner life you chose...”

Arthur scoffed, the word escaping him like a bitter breath of air.

“Tell my father… tell him I will gladly return to my duties.... I once hoped for a simple life, but now I know… the simple path is not for me.”

He stood up from the wet ground, mounted his horse, and without a backward glance, spurred the beast into a gallop, disappearing into the winding streets of the city.