The years passed in a whirlwind of isolation, pain and loneliness. Perhaps it would have been better if I had spoken, but I refused to give in to him. Or so I told myself. Perhaps my voice was already gone by then. I doubt I will ever know for sure.

All I could do was suffer and tell myself that I wouldn't give in to my father. Eventually, I forgot that I ever had a voice.

Sometimes, he would beat me until I passed out from the pain, just like the night we first met. As he vented his rage on my body, he told me over and over again what a disappointment I was. Slowly, I began to believe him.

Other times, I would be locked in my room and starved for days as punishment for some supposed act of defiance. When I was finally released, he would remind me that I could have a good life, if only I would speak and obey.

My stepmother, the Duchess, didn’t want to lay eyes upon me at all, and avoided my presence at all times. My sister, however, took great pleasure in tormenting her bastard brother, who was heir apparent to the duchy she wanted for herself. I avoided her as much as my stepmother avoided me.

My room, incomparably more luxurious than my bedroom in my mother's house, was nothing more than a prison. The large canopied bed was plush and soft, the decor immaculate and beautiful, but all I saw were the metal bars on the windows that reminded me I was a prisoner, not a guest.

I came of age during my fourth year in that house. My birthday was no longer an occasion I cared to celebrate, but my father insisted on throwing a grand banquet to celebrate my eighteenth year. After all, he had to keep up appearances.

In the weeks leading up to the banquet, no one was allowed to hit my face, so the southern nobles wouldn't see my bruises.

It all seemed like a pointless farce to me. Was a male heir truly such an important thing? My sister would gladly inherit the duchy, and adopting her future husband would have been enough to satisfy the Vraynian succession laws.

However, even though I was an obvious failure, my father had obsessed over having a male heir for so long that he couldn't let it go. His stubbornness persisted beyond reason, despite the constant pleas of his wife and daughter to just overthrow the succession laws and kill me.

At the banquet, I met the highest ranking nobles of the duchy one by one, sitting in my chair of honor. They must have been warned that I couldn't speak, because no one batted an eye when I didn't respond to their well wishes.

For my part, I had been instructed to sit, smile, and not make a fuss, with a clear warning of what would happen to me if I didn't.

And so, one after another, the nobles approached me, offering me joyous tidings for my coming of age, trying to curry favor for when I became Duke. I nodded silently to all of them, trying my best not to scowl, all the while feeling disgusted by their obvious pandering.

On the night of my eighteenth birthday, the knights who had brought me to Ramport four years earlier were assigned to guard the doors of the banquet hall. To outsiders, they were presented as the proud protectors of my father, the Duke, but in reality, they were the thugs who did his dirty work.

I had always thought that knights were chivalrous and kind men who protected and served, but that was not the case with the Duke of Ramport's knights. They were all ruffians who enjoyed inflicting pain.

Perhaps by design, perhaps not, they served as a stark reminder of where I came from and that I was nothing more than a prisoner who had to act in accordance with the will of his captors.

Except for that banquet, I was rarely allowed to leave the north wing of the house where my bedroom was located. My food, when I received it, was delivered to me there.

Other than the servants of the house, who ignored me, and my family, whom I would have been happy to never see, I didn't have any interaction with the outside world for years.

In all that time, I never once allowed myself the luxury of succumbing to my grief. I had nowhere I could go that felt safe enough to release the tears that constantly stung my eyes. So I pushed them down, into a hidden place in the depths of the fog, locked away until I could finally be free.

I promised myself that one day I would release them. And on that day, when I found that safe place I longed for, I would be free to be Falyn again. Then, only then, would I be allowed to cry.

Nine years passed and I was approaching my twenty-fourth birthday. By this time I was a man grown, no longer the resilient youth I was when I arrived.

Despite my surroundings, I had somehow grown into adulthood. My height peaked at five feet and nine inches, and my body was leaner than it should have been, lacking in strength and constantly healing from the injuries inflicted by my father and his knights.

The maids who did the cleaning in my room were the ones who brought me news from the outside world. Not that they actually spoke to me. But it seemed they thought that mute meant deaf as well.

All I had to do was stare at a book and occasionally turn the page, and I could secretly listen to them carelessly chatter about the outside world.

That was how I came to know 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 expected. The people of eastern Vrayna were desperate for peace; it was unfortunate that the rest of Vrayna wasn't.

The beastmen had long been considered a threat along the eastern border, though I'd never understood the people's fear of them. Sure, they were half beast, but they were also half human. Something similar to a human, at least.

I would have been around ten at the time. I'd gone exploring and strayed too far from my normal path and got lost in the woods. A small lion cub had found me leaning against a tree, scared and crying.

At the time, I didn’t even realize it was a beastman cub and had no idea that I’d accidentally passed through the borderland and into beast territory.

The little cub had stayed with me, nuzzling me and comforting me, until its father came to find it. When I saw a large beastman charging toward us, I thought my life was at an end.

But the beastman didn't attack. The beastman was the little cub's father, who’d become frantic when his son hadn't come home.

Seeing my obvious distress, he offered to help me. He took me back to their home and fed me a meal of grilled meat, which was shared with the little cub, and vegetable soup. Then he guided me back to the part of the forest I knew.

I had to promise not to tell anyone that he had helped me, as people would panic if they found out that a beastman had crossed the borderland, regardless of his intentions. I promised with all my youthful might and never told a soul.

Over the next few years, I secretly went back to visit them many times to play with the cub as he slowly grew into a young lion.

On my final 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, had told me that he'd soon gain his human form and we'd be able to talk to each other. Apparently the first transformation usually happened around the age of twelve.

In the end, I never saw his human form. I couldn’t help but wonder if that beastman and the cub were okay, living so close to the border during the war.

The war between the human nation of Vrayna and the Beastlands to our east had reached a stalemate. Both sides had suffered heavy losses and were preparing to enter into peace negotiations.

Even though it was a blow to the pride of the Vraynian army, the negotiations were the best choice for our nation. It was said that the Beastlands still had untapped forces in their northern and southern regions, but the human army was running out of reinforcements.

Despite their advantage, it was the beasts who proposed the marriage treaty, and the humans who had grudgingly accepted. Since the Beastlands were a collection of tribes without a King or Queen, it was decided that one of the ducal families of Vrayna would provide the bride; the Royals only intermarried most of the time anyway.

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A war general from one of the western beast tribes had been chosen as the beast bridegroom.

In the Beastlands, the land was shared peacefully by many different tribes. The land was divided fairly, if not equally, between the different types of beasts, and a few tribes chose to remain as nomads.

Various wolf tribes dominated the east, and the cat tribes held the western lands, sharing a border with the human nation of Vrayna. The cub and his father were from one of those western tribes.

Despite his enormous size and the fangs that showed when he smiled, I was never afraid of the large lion 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.

The maids' stories about the beastmen, however, were more like horror stories meant to frighten small children. They talked about what monsters the beastmen were, calling them sub-humans and making no effort to hide their distaste.

For the first time ever, they said, they were thankful that they weren't born nobles, since they didn't have to worry about becoming a monster’s bride.

The tales that came back from the war front included tales 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 offended the two maids deeply.

I was horrified to think that the kind beastman I had met all those years ago could have done such a thing to the people I had cared for.

However, as I imagined 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 maid's gossip, and trips to my father's study.

Alive, dead or a fate worse than death, it didn't matter. The people out there were more of a concept to me than a reality. I didn't wish them harm, but I didn't dare hope they were well either. 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.

The night after I'd overheard the maids gossiping about the Beastlands marriage treaty, I was called into my father's study. I knew immediately that something was amiss, as he had never summoned me in the evening prior to this.

I allowed myself to be led there without a fuss, and when I arrived, I saw that more than just my father was waiting for me.

On either side of my father, who sat in a chair by the hearth, were Tarlon and the black haired demon Albrecht. Tarlon didn't even acknowledge my arrival, but Albrecht watched me with his disgusting, lustful eyes and wore his usual smug sneer.

There was also a visitor sitting by the hearth. As soon as he turned in my direction, I recognized the man sitting across from my father. I'd seen him at my coming-of-age banquet, though he'd never bothered to greet me.

This was no ordinary visitor. This man was the second Prince of Vrayna, Eduard de Vray.

On either side of him stood his own knights, wearing shiny metal armor, their faces covered by their helmets. The first thought that came to mind was, Wow, so that’s what real knights look like…

My father’s knights looked all the more like ruffians when compared to the shining glory of the Royal knights.

The Second Prince was ordinary in appearance, but held himself in a manner that conveyed authority and the expectation of obedience. When I entered the room, he turned to look at me, taking in my appearance with his sharp and calculating eyes.

I got the impression that he was evaluating me, but I had no idea why someone like him would want to evaluate a mute bastard who never left his room.

After observing me for a considerable length of time, he nodded ever so slightly and turned back to my father.

"Duke Ramport, you’re sure about this?" he asked my father with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Yes, Your Highness," my father replied in a tone of deference I didn't know he was capable of, "not only am I sure, I am honored to make this sacrifice for the future of our kingdom. But may I humbly request a few moments alone with the boy before you depart?"

"Of course, Duke Ramport," the Second Prince replied in a cordial tone, "take all the time you need. You've once again shown your loyalty and devotion to the human cause. And I think it would be best if you explained things to him first anyway."

With that, the Second Prince rose from his seat and left the room, his knights following obediently behind him. I had no idea what was going on, but I had a bad feeling about what my father was about to tell me.

As soon as the Second Prince left the room, my father's entire demeanor changed. Ah, yes, this was the man I was used to seeing when I walked into this room.

"You disgusting disappointment of a son," my father began, "I feel nothing but regret when I think of all the years I spent searching for you. I saved you and brought you into my home, yet you have repaid my devotion with failure, defiance, and uselessness. No matter how hard I tried, you have been nothing but a disappointment. And since you turned out to be such an overwhelming failure of a son, we shall have to make use of you in other ways."

I stared at my father in silence, dread creeping into my heart. I had always known that I wouldn't be his true heir. Who would treat their future heir so brutally? Anxiety overwhelmed me as I waited for my father to inform me of my fate.

"You will leave with His Highness, the Second Prince, to fulfill a duty required of you by your nation," my father continued, "You should be grateful, really. I have finally found a way for your worthless existence to benefit us. Consider it an opportunity for you to thank me for keeping you alive after you caused me so much inconvenience. Make no mistake, if you don't go along peacefully, I will give you to Albrecht here as his personal plaything."

Those words stopped any thoughts of defiance I might have had. I felt sick just thinking about what that would mean.

During the years I’d spent living there, Albrecht had tortured and tormented me in every way that my father would allow. I was still untouched in the way I feared most, but my body and mind bore more scars from Albrecht than from my father. My father beat me and destroyed my self worth, but Albrecht was the true creature of my nightmares.

When I slept, his face and the things he’d done to my mother haunted my dreams. When I was awake, he subjected me to fresh torments to fuel my endless nightmares. The whippings, molestations, and the constant threat that he might cross that final line had left me broken and terrified of what he might do next.

My father had seen the terror Albrecht inspired in me. I think he found it amusing. But more importantly, he knew that I would do anything to avoid being at Albrecht’s mercy. This time, he knew I would obey his will.

Albrecht licked his lips and watched my reaction with scarcely concealed delight. It was obvious that he hoped I would rebel against whatever my father had planned.

I didn't know what my father had planned, but I would go along with it regardless, if it meant I would be safe from the fiend in front of me.

My father began to speak again. "Since we brought you here, our beloved nation has been at war with the Beastlands and peace negotiations have been ordered by the First Prince. In order to move forward with the peace treaty, it was decreed that a marriage alliance with the Beastlands shall occur. The First Prince decided that my darling Emma would make a suitable bride, as she is of a marriageable age and of high birth, but there is no way I'm going to allow my beautiful daughter to be subjected to a forced marriage with one of those creatures."

It was then that I began to realize what my father was planning.

"You, Julien, shall take her place," he said with a cruel smile. "You will travel to the capital with his Highness, the Second Prince, and be married to that creature in her place. I can't say that I agree with this peace treaty to begin with, but I refuse to allow my darling Emma to be forced to copulate with an animal. Those filthy creatures should be eradicated, not treated with."

The hatred in his eyes shone clearly in the light of the fire that burned in the hearth. Even I, who thought I had already seen the depths of his hatred, was taken aback.

"In any case, if it were to become enraged and kill you," my father continued, "that would certainly give us a reason to rekindle the war effort and claim the Beastlands for the benefit of our great nation. And in the rare event that the creature accepts you as its bride... well, I dare say you'll wish it had killed you."

Despite my lacking education and isolation, I knew that claiming the Beastlands for Vrayna was over ambitious and foolish. According to the whispered gossip I’d heard, their land was vast and densely populated. The beastmen surely outnumbered us and could probably wipe us out long before we’d even begun to conquer them. He had let his hatred of the beastmen cloud his judgement.

It felt strange, to be able to see my father’s folly so clearly laid out in front of me. This untouchable figure had weaknesses after all.

"The Second Prince sees eye to eye with me on this, so all you need do is follow his lead and obey his orders." My father stood and walked over to me.

I met his sharp green eyes, so similar to my own, with a feigned calmness that I didn’t feel.

Looming over me, he instructed, "Do as the Second Prince tells you and don't ever think of coming back here. You might be my son in name, but I wash my hands of your pathetic existence. You can either be that beast’s bitch for the rest of your life, or you can die. If you return, you will be Albrecht's toy, not my son."

My father informed me of my fate in a cold and threatening tone. It seemed he had found a way to both be rid of my presence and incite the beastmen, who had approached us in good faith. They came for a noble bride, so he would give them his shameful, mute bastard instead.

Even if I survived, my future was bleak.

However, I was finally going to be free of this life, safe from the violence and fear I had come to accept as a part of my reality.

It was possible I would be lucky enough that the beastman I was being offered to would be like the lion beastman I knew as a child.

But the chances of a war general taking pity upon me were slim. I probably wouldn't survive our first encounter, and if I did survive, I might be faced with a nightmare akin to being Albrecht's pet.

The idea made me sick. I didn’t harbor any of my father’s hatred for the beastmen, but I hated the idea of being held down, of being treated like my mother was. I’d rather they killed me, if that was the case.

"Now get out," my father ordered, "You're making the Second Prince wait, so be gone. May we never meet again."

With that, I was dismissed from his presence and life.