Nine years passed and I was fast approaching my twenty-fourth birthday. By that time I was a man grown, no longer the resilient youth I had been when I arrived. My height had peaked at five feet and nine inches, and my body was thinner than it should have been, lacking in strength and constantly healing from the injuries inflicted by my father. 

Completely isolated from everyone and everything I'd ever known, it was the maids who cleaned in my room who brought me news from the world outside. Not that they actually spoke to me. But they seemed to assume that mute also meant deaf, and they spoke freely as if I weren't there. All I had to do was stare at a book, occasionally turn a page, and I could secretly listen to their careless chatter about the outside world.  

It was through the maids that I learned that Vrayna had gone to war with the Beastlands during my fifth year in that house. I didn't know how it had started, but the bloody war had lasted longer than anyone had expected. The beastmen had long been considered a threat along the eastern border, though I'd never understood why people feared them so much. Sure, they were half beast, but they were also half human. Or something similar to human, at least. 

I was about ten years old when I met my first beastman. I'd gone exploring in the forest, strayed too far from my usual paths, and gotten myself completely and utterly lost. A small lion cub had found me leaning against a tree and crying my eyes out. At first, I didn’t even realize that he was a beastman cub. I had no idea that I’d inadvertently wandered through the borderland into beast territory. The little cub had stayed with me, nuzzling me and comforting me until his father came to find him. 

When I saw a large beastman charging toward us, I thought my life was at an end. However, the beastman didn't attack me, and I discovered that the cub I'd been cuddling with was a young beastman, not an animal. He was also a young beastman who hadn't come home when he was supposed to, causing his father to panic. 

The cub's father took me back to their secluded home and fed me dinner before guiding me back to the part of the forest I knew. I promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone, as a beastman crossing the borderland might cause a panic. I never told anyone about what happened that day, not even my mother.

Over the next few years, I made frequent secret trips back to visit them. The cub slowly grew into a young lion, always surprising me with how much bigger he'd grown. On my last visit before I was taken, the cub's head was almost as high as my shoulder. His father, who had become like a father to me as well, told me that it wouldn't be long before he would gain his human form and we'd be able to talk to each other properly the next time. As I left that day, I was already looking forward to my next visit. 

But in the end, I never got to see his human form. I never saw him again. Sometimes, I forgot he ever existed.

The war between the human nation of Vrayna and the Beastlands was nearing an end, and both sides were preparing to begin peace negotiations. It was the beastmen who sued for peace, proposing a marriage treaty, and the humans who had grudgingly accepted. Since the Beastlands had no King or Queen, one of the ducal families of Vrayna would be required to provide the bride. The Royals only intermarried most of the time anyway.

A war general from one of the western cat tribes had been chosen as the beast bridegroom. The Beastlands were divided into tribes, with the wolf tribes dominating the eastern lands, and cat tribes dominating the west. The lion beastman and his cub were from one of those western tribes.

Despite his fangs and somewhat menacing appearance, I had never been afraid of that kind beastman. In fact, my younger self couldn't help but smile at his mane-like hair and round little lion ears that looked just like his son's. For some reason, I couldn't recall what the father's face looked like or anything about the time I spent with the cub. The details were obscured in fog, but I was certain that my visits to the Beastlands were some of my fondest moments. 

However, the stories that the maids told about the beastmen sounded like horror stories meant to frighten small children. They talked about what monsters the beastmen were, calling them sub-human, and making no effort to hide their disgust. For the first time ever, the maids said they were thankful that they weren't born as nobles, since they didn't have to worry about being forced to marry a monster.

Stories that came back from the war front included rumors of cat beastmen invading the eastern border villages and committing terrible deeds. They were said to be brutal in their tactics, killing the men first and then torturing the women and children for days. The thought of a human woman being forced to marry such a creature deeply offended the two maids.

I was horrified at the thought of the kind beastman I had met all those years ago doing such things. But even as I struggled to recall his kind smile and gentle fatherly gestures, I just couldn't believe it was possible. 

Part of me was conflicted about what to think, but another part of me thought that there was no point in worrying about it. None of it had anything to do with me anymore. My world was limited to four walls, the knowledge I could glean from the maid's gossip, and the whims of my captors.

Alive, dead, or a fate worse than death, it didn't matter. Out there was more of a concept to me than a reality. I didn't dare to hope the beastman and his cub were well. Hope kills. I didn't need it and I didn't want it. I'd worry about the people out there if I ever saw the outside again.