The Third Prince Of Darkness

"Will there be scars?" my mother asked worriedly.

"Some might remain, but most will heal over time," the healer said as he disinfected my wounds. "He needs to rest now."

My mother came closer again and held my hand. "We will not let this go. Everyone who failed to protect you will be punished," she said resolutely.

"Emilia is not to blame, Mother. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't have a son right now. So please, don't go after Emilia." I said.

I noticed my mother trembling aggressively when she heard "you wouldn't have a son" and as her eyes started to tear up again, she seemed to grasp the seriousness of the current situation once more.

Isabella, on the other hand, with a more strategic approach, said, "As Ethan said, we won't be too hard on Emilia, but we must find the person behind this attack and increase security within the palace. This incident maybe might just the beginning..."

After finishing his work and bandaging my wounds, the healer handed me a bottle of ointment. "I have cleaned the wounds and treated your son. Using this ointment every night could help the scars disappear. But it would be very beneficial if he rests for a few days" he said, looking at my mother with some concern.

"I wish your son a speedy recovery and hope he gets well soon" the healer said, bowing slightly. Then he gathered his things and quickly left the room. My mother was still angry and worried, but the healer's words had done little to calm her; in fact, her anger seemed to have increased.

"Ethan, can you tell us exactly what happened? But you don't have to if you need to rest or don't want to recall this terrible memory" Isabella said as she approached me.

"No, it's okay, I will tell you" I said and began to narrate the fictional story I had prepared, mixed with lies. First, I showed them the bell I had attached to the window and told them it helped me realize the assassin was coming. Of course, this was a lie. I had placed the bell on the window after neutralizing the assassin.

After all, if the assassin learned that a bell rang when he first entered through the window, he would be more cautious and prepared for an attack after entering the room, which would ruin my plans.

I later told them that the assassin noticed that I ran towards the door after the assassin entered the room, but just as I reached it, the assassin threw a dagger that grazed my hand. When they looked at my left hand, they indeed saw a wound, and when they looked at the door, they saw a dagger hanging there.

With every second of my story, my mother's and stepmother's faces grew sterner, and their anger swelled.

Then I told them how I hurried to the wall and banged on it hard to alert Emilia to the adjacent room. I explained how I evaded the assassin's attacks with the help of the objects in the room and a lot of luck.

I got all my wounds running from the assassin, and finally, after 15-20 seconds, Emilia arrived. I said that upon seeing Emilia, the assassin tried to flee, and just as he was climbing out the window, Emilia struck his legs with own sword. Since the assassin was well-trained, I explained that Emilia had to hit his other leg and even his back a few times with her sword to stop him.

I told all these lies skillfully, and it seemed both women believed me. One skill I had gained from my previous life was the art of lying. The first rule: If you want a lie to be convincing, you must believe it yourself. Anyway, when I finished my story, they looked at me with sympathy and a bit of guilt.

It was clear that the fact that a six-year-old child had gone through so much in one night deeply affected them, especially my mother.

When I finished speaking, a tall, handsome man entered the room. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and his authoritative presence was palpable in his every step. This man was King Richard Asina Lenistark, ruler of the Asina Kingdom and my father.

As soon as my father entered the room, there was a shift in the atmosphere. His eyes briefly fixed on me, assessing my wounds. Then he turned to my mother with deep lines forming on his face. "We will hold those responsible, accountable," he said with determination. "I promise you, Luciana, I will find the person behind this attack as swiftly as possible and ensure justice is served."

My mother seemed somewhat calmed by my father's resolve, but her anger returned even stronger after a few seconds. "You! You and your stupid rules nearly cost my son's life today, but no! Instead, you punish your other son because harm came to the son of your beloved wife! THIS IS YOUR JUSTICE!

I'm sure your precious wife orchestrated this assassination!" Luciana exclaimed, her anger now seeming uncontrollable.

"Calm down, Luciana. You know I had no such intention" Richard replied.

Before my mother could say more, Isabella interjected, but I quickly realized it was a mistake to think Isabella would calm the situation.

"You had no such intention oh yeah? Does that even matter? After all, it was the woman you chose instead of me who committed this crime! And this isn't the first assassination attempt! You know this, but your love for her has blinded you, Richard. And trust me, we don't need your twisted justice!

If necessary, I'll use all my family's resources to destroy Fiona!

...For old time's sake, let me give you some advice, Richard, stay out of our way. Not even a king can handle two angry mothers." Isabella said with evident hatred in her eyes.

I never anticipated things would escalate to this extent, and it seemed my father hadn't anticipated it either.

"Don't overstep your bounds just because you're my wife. If there is a guilt, whoever is responsible will face the consequences. Lastly Isabella... let me give you a piece of advice for old times' sake as well: Don't test my limits" Richard said coldly.

Richard's words slightly took aback my mother, but Isabella appeared unaffected. The tension in the room was as sharp and intense as a sword. My father's words only seemed to further enrage my mother and Isabella. It felt like there was no way to defuse this moment. I knew I had to do something before things got even worse.

"Mother, Isabella, wouldn't it be better to focus on controlling the assassin right now instead of arguing here? After all, the assassin could commit suicide or someone might want to silence them to prevent them from talking," I said, looking at both of them with chubby cheeks as I sat in my mother's lap, eliciting a moment of surprise.

"You're right. I should go interrogate him myself," my father said, turning away and walking towards the door.

"I'll come with you" Isabella said, kissing my cheek before following Richard.

Alone with my mother, I realized I needed to comfort her, her arms still trembling from the ordeal.