Willow glared down at the wood of the table. He didn’t need to defeat the bastard or play his meaningless games. He was just going to take from him.

Willow took a calming breath as he went about packing his few belongings that were worth taking with him. One way or another, he needed to leave tonight. Anyone who had also retained their memories would be sure to seek him out here, and there wasn’t a single person among them that he wished to meet.

“I guess I’m going to the capital alone this time,” Willow muttered to himself. It was a strange feeling, being alone.

Ever since he’d been crowned prince—no, even before that, ever since he’d been found and declared the one true heir, there hadn’t been a moment he spent alone. He was forever accompanied by servants, guards, attendants, advisors, and nobles. There was always someone, and now it was just him and the sheep.

The sheep were a mild complication.

Willow wasn’t irresponsible enough to leave them to die. He couldn’t set them loose either. He definitely wasn’t bringing the stinky hellspawns with him. With another sigh, Willow left extra feed out for them before planning a detour to his closest neighbor. Free sheep were free sheep.

Of course, that meant meeting them again.

Guilt gnawed at Willow’s gut as he set out into the night. Everyone who once knew him as a peasant had been swiftly cut off once his ascent to royalty began.

It would be convenient to say that his advisors or peers encouraged him to do so. And it was true that there was certain pressure, but it would be a lie to say it wasn’t Willow’s own choice.

He’d wanted to shear his connections to them. To leave behind his shameful past as a nobody and all of those who had once known him. To show he was better than them all.

These people had shown him kindness after his parents passed away and helped him to maintain the family business without asking for a single thing in return. It was the kindness of those who had nothing and gave everything, and Willow had returned that kindness with apathy and arrogance.

He sighed as he trudged through the hills. Willow looked up to the stars above. Those stars were probably aware of his sins. They were timeless and eternal, resting up in the sky changelessly without a single care for the world below.

They knew of his crimes but didn’t care.

Willow felt a certain hollowness as he thought about that apathy. He once thought that he was the one who deserved to look down upon others, but all that he had ever been was a fool who never saw further than his own pride.

The sky would look down on him if it cared to do so. But he wasn’t even worth looking down upon.

He had never wanted to meet his neighbors again. Never wanted to face them after knowingly turning away from them for his own benefit.

He didn’t want to have to face the people he wronged. Even if they didn’t retain any memories of it, his stomach turned uneasily as he thought of the unpleasant future ahead.

At least the elderly couple would serve as a good test to determine if only a few people retained their memories or if everyone did. Willow winced at the thought.

What face would they wear if they knew he’d turned them away the moment he had the power to do so?

This was truly bad luck, punishing him for every arrogant decision he’d made.

Willow spotted the neighboring farm in the distance and frowned at the sight. There were no lights inside the home. That meant that the couple had already turned in for the evening or weren’t home for whatever reason.

Either way, his plans might be further inconvenienced.

What a pain. This was entirely the damn sheep’s fault. If only they were goats. Goats could survive in the wilderness fine on their own. They didn’t need a shepherd to guide or protect them. They handled themselves with strength and independence.

Such a pain. Willow walked past the stables and hesitated.

How much easier would it be to just take a horse and ride off? Never face the elderly couple, never speak to them again, never worry about the damn sheep, just take a horse which would be exceptionally helpful in his journey and go.

He could so easily take everything he needed and he would never need to pay for it. He planned to disappear so thoroughly that no one connected to that treacherous scum would be able to find him. Some lowly and poor peasants who had no means to do more than care for their own survival wouldn’t be able to do anything.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t tempted. Willow’s amber eyes moved toward the stable doors as he thought just how easy it would be.

His fists clenched at his sides.

Of course, then he would have to live with the voice inside that forever decried him a coward. More than the treachery, he hated that thought. Being a coward who couldn’t face one elderly couple and abandoned those stupid sheep to die alone.

He wasn’t so gutless. He still had some pride.

He was a wretched and miserable bastard, but he wasn’t a damn coward.

Clicking his tongue disdainfully, Willow made his way to the elderly couple’s house. It always struck him as strange no matter how many times he’d been here. The house was in much poorer condition than the stables, as though the priority was to provide comfort for the horses.

He knew the couple didn’t have much money. The land they did own was carefully partitioned with just enough produce for them to survive off of and a tiny bit more that they sent to the market to be sold. Often, they gave him food as well.

Guilt weighed down every miserable step as he approached the front door and knocked firmly.

It was a while before there was any answer.

Through the windows, Willow spotted a flickering candlelight that slowly made its way to the front door. The door opened, and the face of the kindly elderly woman appeared beyond. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, sleep fleeing from her eyes.

“What are you doing here so late?” she chastised gently, guiding him inside her home without an ounce of hesitation or suspicion. “Is something wrong?”

Damn.

It would be so much easier if they were bad people or if they had ever been cruel. Willow had never liked the couple when he was younger. He’d thought that they were foolish. They could have a lot more if they just acted selfishly.

He’d resented it. It was hard to pinpoint why. Perhaps it was his own inferiority complex. But he’d resented their easy kindness and their inability to be cruel. He’d hated how they so easily showed kindness to an orphan like him.

He felt like they were patronizing him. Pitying him. He didn’t want it.

He’d been naive and ignorant.

He hadn’t realized what real pity felt like. He hadn’t experienced what it truly was to be pitiful.

He knew now.

He knew the difference between kindness and pity, just far too late to have shown any kindness to others. All of it too late to have been a decent person.

The elderly woman sat him down at their table, assuring him that she would boil some water to make him a warm drink.

He took hold of her wrist.

“I…”

His voice caught up in his throat.

He meant to tell her to stop. That he was here for a reason. That all he wanted was to give her the damn sheep and then be rid of her forever. He wanted to tell her that he was never coming back and he’d never think back to this place.

“I’m sorry.”

The old woman’s wrinkled forehead knitted up in concern, and a leathery hand pressed against his forehead, feeling for a fever. “Did that arrogant Willow boy just apologize to me?” she teased. It was a clear attempt to ease his tension.

She really was a kind person.

“I’m leaving,” Willow said, looking away from her. “I want to give my sheep to you. I’m not coming back. I’m sorry.”

There was the shortest pause. A tense moment between them where she took a moment to comprehend his words. A tiny second where Willow prepared for the condemnation that he knew he deserved.

“Dear child, what could you be sorry for?” She kneeled in front of him, holding his hands in hers. “What’s wrong?”

It was strange.

He’d never liked her. Not in his whole life. He thought she was bothersome and annoying and didn’t know how to mind her own business.

But in a moment of weakness, he wanted to let it all out. He wanted to whine and complain and tell her about all the complicated feelings welling up inside of his chest.

He didn’t though. The less she knew, the safer she would be from those who would seek him out.

“I can’t tell you,” he said honestly. He felt even worse saying the words. “I’m leaving.”

She sighed, looking up at him with eyes that were far too understanding. “What a bothersome boy you are,” she said as she shook her head. She stood up and headed toward a cabinet, pulling out a few things, to his bemusement. “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

“…Yes?” Willow said. He was puzzled by the question before comprehension dawned. His eyes shot to the room where her husband was still sleeping, and the woman let out a little laugh.

“He’d never forgive me if I let you go off without anything.” She pressed a pouch of coins into his hands before guiding the way through the front door and toward the stables. “We promised your parents that we’d look after you.”

But you didn’t need to keep that promise.

No one but the sky would have known if they broke the promise. No one would have ever known or cared. The stars would have ignored the sin with the same apathy that they felt toward Willow’s own wrongdoings. There was ultimately no consequence in this life or beyond for being a selfish wretch.

Yet, they showed kindness.

Willow felt the weight of their kindness as she brought out a horse and helped him saddle it up. She didn’t say much. She didn’t ask any questions. He wondered if perhaps she remembered, if she knew who he was and that was why she was so accommodating to him. The question died on his lips though when he looked at the elderly woman just one more time.

She had a worried little smile and a wrinkle between her brows. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was still in her nightgown, the hem now covered in mud and muck from the stables.

What did it matter?

He realized that it didn’t. The results were the same. Either she was a foolishly kind old woman who gave everything to an orphan boy who didn’t know to be grateful, or she was a calculating old woman who knew that it was in her best interest to be on the good side of the “future king.”

But either way, she would know that he would never return her kindness.

Even more so if she remembered the future. She would know just what an ungrateful bastard he truly was. She would know how he never once looked back and never cared for a single person other than himself.

“I’m sorry,” Willow said again, looking away.

The old woman let out a long sigh and shook her head at him. “That’s not what you should be saying, you silly brat.”

Willow thought that he quite liked her either way, foolishly kind or calculating. He wondered how he never saw what a likable old bag she was before today.

“…Thank you,” he said. His tone was touched with reluctance as gratitude was somehow harder to express than saying sorry. Apologizing was only right; he’d done something wrong and he could admit that. Thanking her meant admitting that he was low enough to require her help.

His pride didn’t like that, but Willow told his pride to shove it.

She smiled brightly at him. “All right, get a move on then.”

What a crazy old bag.

Willow would return the favor this time around. He wasn’t going to be king. He wasn’t going to be rich or powerful. But he’d make the time to make it up to her and her husband. He’d return twofold the kindness that he’d received for both this life and the last one.

He wasn’t a coward who would shy away from his own debt, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to remain indebted to them.

Willow left into the night richer and better prepared for the strife to come, and yet his heart felt heavier than ever.

On the day he turned twenty, a man would come from the capital looking for the heir to the throne and take him in the name of those ends.

Well, that bastard could find an empty house. Willow had no interest in playing his game.

This time around, he’d play a game that suited him much better.