Slave of Fate

After asking about rudras age king

Turned back to Ray, he spoke again, this time with a mixture of calm and gravity. "Ray, I need to discuss this with your mother, brother, and sister. This isn't a decision I can take lightly. You understand what this means, don't you?"

Ray didn't answer immediately, but his gaze never left Rudra, a silent promise lingering in his eyes.

Rudra, on the other hand, remained still, his face as impassive as ever. *Why do they care so much?* he wondered. For him, this entire scene felt like chaos over something he didn't even understand.

The room remained tense, heavy with unspoken words, as the king's decision loomed like a storm on the horizon.

"It's almost noon. Let's eat together," the king declared, his deep voice cutting through the room with authority. "Until then, wait here."

His sharp gaze flicked to Valenor, who responded with a subtle nod, understanding the unspoken command.

Rudra, standing motionless, broke the silence in a tone that was cold yet respectful. "What… what is Royal Adoption?"

The king's eyes shifted briefly toward Rudra, his expression unreadable. Instead of answering, he turned back to Valenor with the same commanding look. Valenor moved, gesturing for Rudra to follow him without a word.

As Rudra followed, his steps measured and emotionless, Ray's voice rang out, halting the king in his tracks.

"Father! Where are you taking him?" Ray asked, concern evident in his voice.

The king turned slowly, his calm demeanor unwavering. His tone, however, carried the weight of authority as he replied, "Like I said, he reeks of blood, Ray. And look at him—he hasn't bathed in days. I've simply ordered for him to be cleaned."

Though his words were blunt, they held no malice, only a matter-of-fact simplicity. Satisfied with his explanation, the king resumed walking, his cape sweeping the floor behind him.

Valenor led Rudra out of the room, the air thick with tension. As they reached the doorway, Ray's voice broke through once more.

This time, it was directed at Rudra.

Ray's lips curled into a bright smile, his tone warm and oddly cheerful despite the heavy atmosphere. "Don't worry! My father is much kinder than he looks. He won't harm you."

Rudra turned his head slightly, his expression as blank as ever, his voice devoid of emotion. *Is this entire family insane?* he thought. *And how do I belong by this idiot's side?*

Without a word, Rudra continued walking, his footsteps echoing faintly in the vast halls.

The path through the castle was a grand display of artistry and wealth. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, and the golden chandeliers above cast a warm glow over the cold marble floors. Yet, Rudra's gaze remained fixed ahead, indifferent to the splendor surrounding him.

Eventually, they arrived at a set of towering double doors. The doors were massive, engraved with elaborate designs that symbolized power, authority, and centuries of history.

Valenor stopped, turning to face Rudra. His voice was formal, yet laced with subtle caution. "This is the grand hall. Wait here for further instructions."

Rudra nodded slightly, his face betraying no hint of emotion. Still, his mind was a swirl of questions he couldn't voice. What exactly is this 'Royal Adoption'? Why am I here?

As Valenor opened the doors and stepped inside, leaving Rudra standing alone, the boy stared at the enormous doors. Despite the mystery and weight of the situation, his face remained as blank as ever, a silent storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

Rudra stood in stunned silence, his eyes scanning the guest room before him. He had expected something, but this… was beyond anything he had imagined. The room itself seemed to breathe with opulence and grandeur.

Valenor, standing at the door, paused and spoke with his usual calm tone. "I will send some servants to clean you up. I'll return in an hour."

With that, Valenor turned and headed toward the direction they had come from, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.

Rudra, still absorbing the luxurious surroundings, stepped further into the room. The air felt thick with comfort and elegance. His eyes traced the high, frescoed ceiling, which gave the entire room an expansive, almost ethereal feel. The walls were draped with rich, burgundy silk tapestries embroidered with intricate patterns of gold.

At the center of the room stood a grand four-poster bed, its sheer curtains flowing gently in the air like soft whispers. The fine linens were immaculately arranged, offering an invitation of tranquility. Beside it, a rosewood nightstand sat with quiet grace, holding a crystal decanter and a delicate goblet—both shimmering under the soft light from the grand, arched windows.

Rudra's gaze wandered toward the windows, framed with velvet curtains. Through them, he saw the sprawling gardens of the palace, lush and green, giving him a fleeting sense of peace amidst the chaos he had been thrust into.

Just as he started to enjoy the view, a soft knock interrupted his thoughts