The Discarded Heir's Return

Episode 2

The horse’s hooves clattered rhythmically on the worn cobblestone of the city streets, a mournful drumbeat to Arthur’s despairing heart.

He rode without a clear destination, simply following the winding roads away from the gilded cages of the city's finest inns. He felt hollowed out, as if a great strength had been lifted from his shoulders, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.

For five years, he had chosen this life. Five years he had spent living as a commoner, rejecting the grandeur and backhanded politics of his family, the House of Valerius.

He never introduced himself as a Valerius, to the world, he was just Arthur Blackwood, a simple commoner with a strong back and a good heart.

His father, the Duke, had been furious, calling it a childish whim, but Arthur had insisted, making a pact that he would prove he could thrive on his own. He believed true happiness was found not in a coffer of gold, but in a simple life and in the love of a good woman.

That woman was Elara.

He had met her at a merchant's faire, a baker's daughter with a light in her eyes that outshone any jewel.

He had wooed her not with promises of land or titles, but with his honesty and kindness. She had been courted by powerful lords, yet she had chosen him, a commoner, and had even persuaded her grandfather to consent to their marriage.

To Arthur, It was a secret victory, a moment that had given him hope that his simple life could be real, that love was enough.

He had been a daft fool to believe all that.

He reined his horse in at the edge of the city, where the cobbled roads gave way to a muddy track leading toward the country.

He dismounted and simply stood there, staring at the darkening sky.

He felt the bitter sting of her words all over again. Marrying a common wretch like you is my one true regret!

“What went wrong, Elara?” he whispered to the wind, his voice raw. “Was our love not enough?”

He stood there for a while just looking at the sky and then he mounted back on his horse and spurred the horse heading home.

He reached the small cottage he and Elara shared, a modest structure of timber and thatch, and dismounted his horse.

A wisp of smoke curled from the chimney, a rare sight, for Elara never cooked.

As he entered, he was met with a familiar scent of roasted pheasant. Elara stood by the small hearth, a sight that shock Arthur because Elara never cooked.

She gestured to the humble wooden table.

“You’re home, husband? You don’t have to cook tonight. I have food ready.”

Arthur’s heart felt like stone. He did not remove his boots or his dusty riding cloak.

He walked straight to the small chest in the corner of the single room. “No, wife. I’ve come to gather my things.”

Hearing his words, Elara’s eyes flashed with anger as she followed him. “What’s this? Running away like a scoundrel? Do you have to make a big hullabaloo over such a trifling matter?”

Arthur yanked his tunic and cloak from the chest, his motions rough and decisive. “A trifling matter? You call cheating a trifling matter?”

Elara, having no explanation that would be believed, simply scoffed. “So what if it is? You are a pauper, a wretch with no money or status. A simple wife has to do what she must. You have to endure it!”

Arthur slammed the chest shut with a loud crack. “I have endured your family’s insults for five years! I have served you like you are a dutchess, yet you have never even looked me in the eye!”

His voice rose with each word. "Your mother, Lady Gwyneth, has humiliated me in front of her friends and even struck me in public, and I never once talked back! Your father, Lord Alistair, has made me his personal servant, making me do all the arduous and filthy tasks on his land. All the money I earned to pay for my broken ribs and sprains I earned by working my fingers to the bone at the smithy and the stable! From today on, I am done enduring! Elara, I demand a public annulment of our marriage!”

Elara froze in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Hah! You dare to speak of annulment to me? Don’t you remember who you are? A penniless man! You will never live in a keep or ride a proper carriage again!”

Arthur sneered, his disdain clear. “A keep? A carriage? I have no need for such things.”

“Of course you don’t,” Elara retorted, her words like a venomous dart. “I’ve wanted to be rid of you for a long time. I don’t know what kind of folly possessed me to choose a simple man like you over the rich and proper lords who sought my hand in marriage from the start! My grandfather told me I had a good eye for character, but he was very wrong! A penniless wretch like you is not fit to be my husband at all!”

Arthur ignored her rant, stuffing his final items into a sack he had brought with him. He had heard enough.

"I will demand an annulment from the Bishop tomorrow morning," he said, turning to leave."

Elara stomped her foot. "You can’t! The Bishop will not grant it without my family's consent! My grandmother’s 95th birthday is tomorrow! We must all attend her feast before the hour of 12, and I will discuss this with my family then! This marriage was blessed by my grandfather and my family’s honor is at stake!"

Arthur knew she was right; she could not decide her fate on her own. He simply nodded. "Then discuss it soon. I will be awaiting your word."

He left the cottage, his sack slung over his shoulder, ignoring her venomous curses that followed him into the night.

“Shameless! You will beg me to take you back when you realize you have nothing!”

Arthur smirked, turning to face the path he would now take to his true home.

How could a woman with nothing understand that the man she mocked owned more than she could ever comprehend?

She truly was a fool.