I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 355: Part 3 - Rhys Flashback

’Forgive me, my son,’ Maelor thought as he made his decision. ’For not being the father you deserve. For loving you in shadows rather than sunlight. I’m going to give you a gift you’ll never know came from me.’

But he would do it nonetheless. Because even kings couldn’t always control their hearts, and Maelor’s heart had broken the day he’d first heard his infant son cry and known he could never publicly claim him.

Three days later, Maelor rode into the ancient forest alone.

The excuse was hunting, a royal expedition to clear his mind and enjoy the bounty of nature. His guards remained at the forest’s edge, forbidden to follow beyond the boundary markers where old magic still held sway.

Here, in depths where sunlight filtered through canopies thick enough to create perpetual twilight, Maelor moved with purpose born of careful research. He’d studied reports about Sylph’s domain for weeks, learning her patterns, understanding her preferences, and calculating exactly how to approach someone whose power rivaled that of gods but whose temperament resembled a mischievous child.

The forest shifted around him as he walked deeper, responding to his presence with the awareness that all truly ancient places developed. Trees that had stood for millennia recognized elven royalty when it passed, their roots shifting subtly to create paths for him.

Magic saturated the air here, not the refined, controlled magic of palace enchantments, but wild power that existed independent of mortal channeling. It made Maelor’s skin tingle, made his carefully maintained stoicism harder to preserve.

After an hour of walking, the forest opened into a clearing that shouldn’t exist according to natural laws. Perfect circle, exactly thirty paces across, carpeted with grass that glowed faintly with bioluminescent light.

A small stream wound its way through the clearing’s center, and its water was crystalline and so pure that it reflected the canopy above.

And perched on a stone beside the stream, wings flickering with light that shifted between green and gold, sat Sylph.

She was perhaps six inches tall, her form perfectly proportioned, showcasing her womanly figure despite her small stature. Yellow hair cascaded past her shoulders in waves that moved with their own breeze. Dark eyes with verdant irises observed Maelor’s with great interest.

Her outfit was black and green, fashioned from materials that resembled leaves.

”Well, well.” Her voice, clear and resonant like wind chimes, carried across the clearing with perfect clarity despite her small stature. ”What brings mighty Maelor, King of Caeloria, to my humble forest?”

Maelor stopped at the clearing’s edge, offering a slight bow that acknowledged her power without acknowledging subservience. ”I seek an audience with one whose reputation suggests both wisdom and... artifice.”

Sylph’s laugh was pure delight. ”What a diplomatic way to say I’m troublesome.” She launched herself into the air, wings carrying her closer. ”But I like you already. You’re honest, which is more interesting than pure flattery.”

She circled his head once, her small form moving with hummingbird speed, then settled on his shoulder uninvited. ”So tell me, King of the stuffy elves, what problem requires my creativity?”

”I have a son,” Maelor began carefully, aware that every word mattered with beings like Sylph. ”Talented, determined, but... complicated circumstances prevent me from openly acknowledging him.”

”Bastard child?” Sylph nodded. ”Human mother? Ooh, scandalous! I love it already!”

”Indeed,” Maelor confirmed, maintaining stoic composure despite discussing matters he’d never spoken aloud. ”The boy recently suffered a defeat that damaged his confidence. He attends Cordelia Academy, working toward becoming someone worthy of recognition despite his mixed heritage.”

”And you want me to make him powerful,” Sylph guessed, her black-and-green eyes sparkling with mischief. ”Give him the strength to force acknowledgment. Very paternal of you, King. Why not just claim him yourself?”

”Political chains,” Maelor replied. ”The kingdom would fracture. My legitimate daughters would suffer. The Queen would... react poorly. And Rhys himself might be destroyed by the backlash.”

”So you want to help him secretly,” Sylph flew up to hover at eye level, studying his face with an unsettling intensity. ”Give him power while making him think he earned it himself. Manipulate events so he achieves greatness through what appears to be his own merit.”

”Yes,” Maelor admitted, seeing no point in deception with someone who could probably read his intentions.

”Why should I help you?” Sylph asked, genuine curiosity coloring the question. ”What’s in it for me besides the warm feeling of doing good deeds?”

”Entertainment,” Maelor said bluntly. ”A half-blood elf rising to prominence would shake elven society in ways you’d find fascinating. The chaos alone should provide decades of amusement.”

Sylph grinned cunningly. ”Tell me about him. This son of yours. What makes him special besides forbidden parentage?”

Maelor allowed himself a slight smile, the first genuine expression he’d shown since entering the forest. ”He has his mother’s determination and my magical potential. The combination is... remarkable. Given proper training and sufficient power, he could achieve things neither bloodline could accomplish alone.”

”A hybrid situation,” Sylph mused, spinning in midair. ”Two worlds combining into something stronger than either parent. I like it! But I have conditions.”

”Name them,” Maelor said.

Sylph flew down to hover at his chest level, her small face serious despite the mischievous glint never leaving her eyes. ”First, he must agree to pursue the throne. I want chaos in your rigid society, King. I want the nobles forced to accept a half-blood heir. That’s my price.”

Maelor hesitated, calculating political ramifications. A half-blood pursuing the throne would create exactly the chaos Sylph craved, and potentially destroy his legitimate daughters’ futures.

But male heirs took precedence in succession law. If Rhys proved himself worthy enough, demonstrated capability that outshone his sisters...

”Agreed,” Maelor said finally. ”Second condition?”

”He never knows you helped,” Sylph’s voice carried unexpected gentleness. ”This gift comes from me alone. No burden of paternal obligation, no debt to a father who couldn’t publicly claim him. He earns his own pride.”

”That was already my intention,” Maelor confirmed.

”And third,” Sylph grinned with impish delight, ”you owe me a favor. Unspecified, to be called in whenever I find something sufficiently entertaining to demand a king’s assistance.”

Maelor’s stoic mask cracked fractionally with genuine concern. ”That’s... dangerously open-ended.”

”I know!” Sylph’s laugh echoed through the clearing. ”But that’s what makes it fun! Don’t worry, King. I won’t ask you to do anything that would destroy your kingdom. Where’s the entertainment in that? I want to watch the drama unfold, not end it prematurely.”

The terms were risky, but what choice did he have? This was the best solution available to help his son without publicly acknowledging him.

”Agreed,” Maelor said. ”When will you approach him?”

”Oh, I’ll make it romantic,” Sylph promised, already planning her performance. ”Boy exploring forest, discovering mysterious spirit, earning contract through courage and determination. Very heroic! He’ll think it’s destiny rather than daddy’s interference.”

She flew closer to Maelor’s face, her demeanor became more serious. ”You really love him, don’t you? Despite everything, the scandal, the political complications, the risk to your legitimate heirs. You genuinely love this boy you’ve never been allowed to claim.”

Maelor’s stoic composure cracked completely for just a moment, revealing the father beneath the king’s crown. ”He is my son. The only son I will ever have. How could I not?”

Sylph nodded slowly, understanding passing through ancient eyes despite her youthful appearance. ”I’ll take care of him, King. I promise that. Not just the contract, I’ll actually help him become worthy of the acknowledgment you want to give but can’t. Deal?”

”Deal,” Maelor agreed, relief flooding through him despite carefully controlled expression.

They sealed the agreement with a touch, Sylph’s tiny hand pressing against Maelor’s palm, magic flaring between them that bound promises more thoroughly than any written contract.

As Maelor turned to leave the clearing, Sylph called out one final question. ”Does he have your strength? Your actual magical potential? Because if I’m going to invest in this project, I want to know what I’m working with.”

Maelor paused, considering his answer carefully. ”I tested him once, in secret, when he was very young. His magical capacity...” He trailed off, shaking his head with a wistful smile. ”He has potential beyond anything I’ve seen in centuries. Combined bloodlines seem to have created something remarkable.”

”Excellent!” Sylph’s wings fluttered with excitement. ”I do love working with quality materials. Now go, King. Let me plan my dramatic entrance. Boys responding to mysterious forest spirits require proper staging.”