The box before his feet couldn’t have been dropped by a visitor and he didn’t remember having seen it before, so it wasn’t one of his meager belongings. The only reason he hadn’t seen it before was probably due to the fact that it was hidden in a corner normally covered by leaves. With the strong winds brought by the storm season, the previously hidden ground was now revealed, making Adam pass by there to go back to his room. He tended to follow the walls when he walked, trying to lessen his presence even when he was alone and seeking the shadows’ embrace, so the newly cleared ground just before the wall attracted him like a moth to a flame.

Adam crouched down, his knees strained from his previous training aching as he did so, making him frown in discomfort. The small pain, however, was nothing compared to the harsh abuse he had been subject to, like when he had been given fifty lashes at the knights’ training ground because he didn’t know he needed to return the borrowed wooden sword after each day and thus didn’t do so. His hands shook at the vivid memory and tremors shook his body, before his fingers touched the cold surface of the rectangular object, making him wake up from his trance. 

The young man grasped the box and got up, before blowing on it to get rid of the dust and wiping the remnant on his brown pants. He would have to go to the river in the following days to wash the white stain off, or it would give another motive to his family’s knights to harass him. Worst, he could accidentally meet his siblings, who would not hesitate to punish him for ‘tarnishing’ the Salosvkis’ honor. Every excuse was good to sink him deeper in the cold water of despair. 

Now that the small box was clean, Adam took his time examining it. It was made of oak, the wood worn by time, but still giving off a strong presence. The box was simple, with no carvings nor jewels, imbued with modesty. Resting in his palm, the box was small enough to be covered by his calloused hands covered in small cuts. After a short inner debate, Adam chose to open it, going against his intuition to avoid unnecessary troubles.

His breathing stopped, eyes wide like saucers and mouth dropped open. The young noble watched as the opened lid slowly revealed a small mountain of gold coins. Of course, for a rich family like his, this amount was nothing, but for him, who had never possessed anything other than a few clothes, or more like rags, it was enough to make him salivate. Just thinking of the equipment he could buy… Or better, the mouth-watering pastries that his sisters ate while they hosted tea parties with the other noble children, it was simply a dream coming true. 

Contrary to his appearance, Adam had always had a sweet tooth. Of course, he could only guess by the smell that he would like it, or by eating the leftovers put in the trash. He had rummaged through the trash and eaten what was thrown away, and he felt no shame in doing so, his survival instinct considering it a necessary evil. Honor wouldn’t keep him alive.

Adam closed the box before looking around him, making sure that nobody saw him open his new treasure. Seeing no one, he hurried toward his room and closed the door behind him. A torn bed greeted him at the right side of the small room, along with a pile of clothes in the left corner and what used to be a night table under the dirty window in the middle. It was the biggest room in his wing, but it was only big enough to fit this much. The others were all used as storage for thrown out decorations or furniture. He was lucky enough for a worn out bed to be sent here after one of his fellow brothers had slashed it open in a tantrum, or Adam would have to sleep on the cold ceramic.

Adam threw himself on the bed, before opening the small box again and spilling its content on the mattress. The jingle sound that the colliding gold coins created sent shivers of excitement down the man’s spine, but a silver chain caught his attention before he could appreciate more of the feeling. It was simple, just like the box, made of poor material and with a closed pendant at its middle. 

Opening it, Adam froze in shock when he saw a picture of a woman looking just like him in it, a small bundle in her arms. A baby’s face could be seen where the blanket ended. A strange feeling entered his heart as he took out the picture, turning it around and seeing the following written on its back: To my little Adam, the apple of my eye, From your mother.

Adam wasn’t sure of how he was feeling, his ears ringing and his breath short. He had always had doubts about his origins, feeling like the black sheep in the family, his appearance nothing like the Duke and his wife. He could believe that the Duke was his father, as his piercing blue eyes were exactly like his, but while the Duke had sand-like hair and his wife, fiery red ones, Adam’s messy mane was as dark as a moonless night, falling before his pale eyes in a soft veil. The couple also possessed white skin, if not a little tan for the woman. Adam’s skin, though, was a warm milk chocolate tone. With his sculpted body, his bulging chest muscles and his tall stature, Adam looked just like the savages in the south, the Aleksy tribe. 

He had asked his father in the past, but the cold man had only said that he inherited his genes from someone in his mother’s family that had come here after leaving the tribe a long time ago. It wasn’t that uncommon for genes to skip a generation or too, so he never really thought much of it after, but now it seemed like the situation was much more complicated than that.

His curiosity was piqued and he wouldn’t drop the topic until it was satisfied.

Hey dear readers, what do you think of Adam’s look?

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