“Hello, Father. Forgive me for startling you,” Nathaniel said.

Martin brushed his hands off on his robe, hoping he didn’t smell of smoke before moving further in. “What are you doing here?”

His son closed the book and got up, placing it back on the shelf. “A lot has happened today.”

Martin closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead as he shut the door. “Don’t, Nathaniel. Don’t you dare show me kindness. It will hurt far worse than your mother’s slaps.”

Martin moved to behind his desk and sat down. Nathaniel sat back down in the chair opposite. “When a man is at his lowest, that is when you must show him your unconditional love. It is only through love that a person can change for the better. You taught me that.”

Martin stared out the window, incapable of looking at his son. “I made it up.”

Nathaniel glanced up. “What?”

“You must have figured it out. It’s been long enough. None of the other nobility have this. I made it up.”

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I know.” They were quiet for a few moments. “Carlos and I did… get into a lot of mischief as boys.”

Martin couldn’t look at him, especially now. “Carlos got into a lot of mischief, and you tagged along because you didn’t know better. Carlos was far too much like me.” Martin stopped, studying his desk, remembering his darkest sin and what he did to still cover it up. Not even Carlos stooped to such lows.

“Father,” Nathaniel said, sitting up straighter. “Enough. Carlos was a good brother who made mistakes. He had a wonderful life, married Ana, had three wonderful children and was an incredible father. On top of everything, he is with the good spirits. The code helped him be a better version of himself, as I know it has with me.”

Martin shook his head. “And I never lived it. I still don’t live it.”

“It isn’t too late. You kept reminding us of that when we wanted to give up too. No matter how many times we mess up, we repent and keep going,” Nathaniel said. “None of what you told me makes me want to get rid of it. It makes me want to live it more, and Carlos and I were both right to teach it to our boys. Try living it, Father.”

Martin remembered the sin he burned. Remembered the pain he caused. The way he hurt thousands of people to cover up the one. He was trying not to cry, but it came out. “I can’t, Nathaniel. I’m in too deep. I’m going to hell.”

“Don’t give up on your soul just yet, Father. You can make it right,” Nathaniel said.

Martin felt his tears seeping through the crevices of his fingers. Nathaniel still had no idea. Despite the small sliver of his sins that came out, there was still an entire rotten log tucked away from his view. “I don’t trust the code would work for me, because I know the man who wrote it. An evil man, trying to make sure his sons didn’t turn out like him.”

Nathaniel leaned back just a little. “Isn’t that, at its core, what parenting is?” Martin kept shaking his head. Nathaniel continued. “Or for that matter, the social sciences? Human nature? Philosophy? Government? Religion? Men and women trying, and failing, and trying again to make a better world? Doing the research to find rules necessary to govern a body of people?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Martin lowered his hands, taking out his handkerchief. “I’m impressed. You usually had a hard time understanding philosophy.”

“A nobleman must take an interest in his friends’ occupation. Eduardo is my son. I’ve been trying hard to understand his passion,” Nathaniel said.

Martin shook his head, wiping his eyes. “And now that you know exactly what I am? The liar and hypocrite I’ve been all these years? Does that not taint the noble code I gave you?”

Nathaniel studied him closely before shrugging. “You feel guilty. You are hurting. You feel regret. This is all fresh manure you need to help yourself grow into a better person, but no one is going to deny it stinks.” Nathaniel smiled. “A farmer turned soldier taught me that one. Pretty sure they have their own moral code that’s similar to the noble one. The societal classes are still, after all, made up of humans trying to figure out how to be better people in order to reach heaven. You just took the time to write it all down for Carlos and I.” Nathaniel glanced out the window, the small smile dropping. “I don’t know how often I’ll come to see you, as there’s a lot of hurt I feel, but I wanted to check in on you. See if you had somewhere to stay or if you needed my help finding a place. I have a few connections in town if you need.”

“I was just going to sleep here,” Martin said, not looking at his son.

Nathaniel paused, then glanced at the cot lying against the corner. “There?”

“I’ve had no time,” Martin said. It was a lie. He had plenty of time to find a place, but he spent it being a nervous wreck and burning a book from the High Elder’s library to cover his blackest sin.

“I can’t let you sleep there, Father,” Nathaniel said, standing up. “You’ll be stiffer than Tolomon and I will be tomorrow night if you do. Come on. There’s got to be somewhere in this city that has a decent bed.”

Martin looked down, his fingers stuck in his hair, the tears coming back. “And after everything happening between you and Rosa, are you still going to save Tolomon?”

“Of course I will. Tolomon will always be my closest friend, and I will always be there for him as I know he will be for me,” Nathaniel said, standing beside Martin.

“Can you handle twenty-five lashes?” Martin asked, trying to hide the sobs that were just beneath the surface.

“Recovery is going to be a beast, but I’ll do it. I doubt anyone else in the family will come and see.”

Martin shook his head. “I wouldn’t either, if I had a choice.” It was that which finally broke him. The tears ran down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop. “I can’t. Son, I can’t watch you get whipped.”

Nathaniel took Martin’s arm and helped him to his feet. Martin felt broken, hardly able to stand as he sobbed. Nathaniel hugged him, keeping him upright. “I give you permission to close your eyes. I know you can’t do anything right now, but I also know that you will, eventually, make things right. You are going through a tough time, but I know you, and I know your strength of character. You are going to come out of this a better man, and you will make Santollia a better place because of it.”

Martin hugged his son, wondering how it happened that Nathaniel had taken on the more parental role. How was it that his son was comforting him, when it should have been the reverse. He should have been a better father. Taken the parental role so Nathaniel didn’t have to. That, too, brought him a deep shame that did little to comfort him. The truth was, his son still didn’t understand. Martin was still hiding. The opportunity was there, to confess to his son exactly the kind of person he was hugging, but he instead whispered, “You are so much like your mother.”

Nathaniel broke away and smiled, taking Martin’s elbow. “And Carlos was so much like you.” He helped Martin out of his study. “A tactically brilliant mind. Strong where he needed to be, not afraid to admit when he didn’t understand. Not afraid to do the right thing once he realized he was wrong. A leader men have willingly died for.”

Martin shook his head. Carlos was quick to learn because he was open with Nathaniel and Martin about how he truly felt. And he was humble enough to listen. Admitted his wrongs right off instead of letting them fester and grow. Ana helped him far more than even she realized. Carlos was a good man, residing with the good spirits.

A far better man than Martin.

Nathaniel stood by his side as he walked down the steps of the Cathedral. He didn’t know how much sleep he would get in a strange room in an unfamiliar bed, but it would be better than a cot in his study.