Liam stared at his father's lifeless body while his mother, completely panicked, sat on the floor. The weight of what he had just done still could not reach his mind. His mother was the first to recover her senses. She ran to their bedroom and gathered some clothes, stuffing them into bags before coming back to him. He was still standing in the kitchen with the knife in his hand.
"We have to leave, Liam," his mother said. "Do you hear me?" she asked, trying to pinch his cheeks.
She sighed and dragged him outside before placing the bags next to him.
"I'll be right back, alright my dear?" she said. "Stay here quietly."
That was exactly what Liam did. He stood there like a statue while his mother ran toward their house. He did not move when he saw the first flames devouring their home, and even less when his mother, breathless, grabbed his hand and ran as far away as possible. Far from their life with the Kelleys. Far from what had once been their family.
They found refuge in the outskirts of a rough neighborhood in a nearby city. The only thing they had kept were their first names. The Connors had died in a fire in the Kelley viscounty, and it was better that way.
Once again they started from nothing. His mother took all kinds of jobs so they could survive, and Liam did not spare himself either. Though he was only eleven years old, he sold flowers, turned roasting spits for chickens in taverns, and even sold newspapers in the morning, juggling several jobs at once.
As the months passed, his mother's condition worsened and Liam did not understand why. Yes, they lived in miserable conditions, but his mother had never been fragile. By carefully observing her and asking the right questions to the few people he met at work who were willing to answer him, he finally understood.
His mother was pregnant.
"Don't worry, Liam," his mother said one day as she sat peeling potatoes. "I already gave birth to you, and I know a woman in the neighborhood who promised to help me."
Liam wondered whether she was trying to reassure him or herself. He glanced at his mother's swollen belly.
My sister or my brother is inside, he thought.
"You should rest, Mother. I'll take care of dinner."
"You? Cooking?" his mother laughed. "You barely know how to cook. Let your mother prepare you a good meal. You should rest instead, you're the one working too hard."
She had spoken the last sentence with a broken voice.
Who did she think she was fooling? Liam wondered.
He heard her cry every night beside him in the small room they used as a bedroom. Each time he pretended to sleep while lying close to her, and each time he asked God what he had done wrong for his life to become such a nightmare.
"I'll help you anyway," Liam said as he stood up to put wood into their small oven.
Two months later, his mother was writhing in pain in their bedroom. Liam knew it was because she was about to give birth.
"Why hasn't she come?" his mother cried.
She was referring to the woman who had promised to help deliver the baby.
"I told her to come every day this week… I even paid her…" she continued while twisting in pain.
Liam hesitated to leave his mother alone in that state, but when she let out a terrible scream, he made his decision.
"I'll be back quickly, Mother. I'm going to get her," he said before running out of the house.
It felt like an eternity before he arrived at the old woman's house. He knocked several times before someone opened the door. Fortunately for him, it was the old woman herself.
She immediately recognized him and tried to close the door, but Liam was faster and blocked it with his body.
"What are you doing? You promised to help my mother give birth," he said while struggling to keep the door open.
The old woman sniffed contemptuously.
"What she gave me was only enough to cover the first visit. Too bad for her. She didn't give birth yesterday."
Anger rose inside Liam. With surprising strength, he shoved the old woman away from the door.
"Get out of my house!" the old woman shouted from the floor.
Liam pulled out the small knife he kept in one of his pockets and walked toward her. When you worked in the slums, you needed at least a weapon. Assaults and child kidnappings were common.
"What are you doing, you filthy brat?" the old woman cried when Liam pointed the knife at her throat.
"You promised to deliver my mother's baby. So you're going to come and do it, or believe me, you will never know peace again in your life."
The old woman swallowed hard. The look in Liam's eyes chilled her blood. More than that, she knew this boy was not committing his first murder. He would not hesitate to kill her, and they both knew it.
"Alright… alright… I'll go to your mother," she said.
When they entered the room where Liam's mother was, they found her lying on the bed, pale as death. Blood had already stained her dress and she seemed to be suffering terribly.
"Go get towels and hot water," the old woman ordered.
Liam rushed to the kitchen to fetch everything she asked for.
As the hours passed, his anxiety kept rising. When the old woman finally pulled the baby from between his mother's legs, the child covered in blood, Liam felt as though he could breathe again.
"Is everything alright, Mother?" he asked while wiping her forehead.
She nodded before casting an anxious glance at the old woman who was still holding the baby.
"Why isn't he crying?" his mother asked, tears filling her eyes. "Why… Give him to me…"
The old woman slowly turned toward her and handed her the baby.
"He was already dead before you gave birth," the old woman said simply before leaving the room.
Eight years later, in that same room, but this time with a doctor sitting in front of his mother, their lives were once again about to collapse.
"Your mother gave birth a long time ago, didn't she?" the doctor asked.
"Yes, doctor," Liam replied.
The doctor removed his glasses before answering.
"The conditions of her last childbirth were extremely poor, and her uterus was severely damaged. The pain she feels now is the result of the worsening condition of her uterus."
"What can we do to cure her, doctor?" Liam asked, his throat tight.
"A miracle. That is what you need. Injuries like this cannot be cured with medicine."
Liam grabbed the doctor by the collar.
"What does that mean?" he demanded angrily.
"Liam, calm down," his mother said quietly.
He finally released the doctor and ran a nervous hand through his hair.
"Unless you find a healing mage—which is extremely rare even across the entire continent—there is nothing that can be done," the doctor said. "I can give you the name of an herb that will relieve the pain, but to be honest, I don't think she will survive more than a year."
After the doctor left, no one dared to speak. Liam remained standing while his mother lay silently in bed.
Her deathbed, Liam thought as a dull anger stabbed his heart.
"We don't have the money for that herb. Don't worry about me. It doesn't hurt that much…"
"Stop," Liam shouted. "I'm not the child I used to be. I don't believe you anymore. You're suffering, and I will buy that herb."
"Yes… you're right. You're not that little boy anymore," his mother replied with tears in her eyes.
"I'll accept more arena fights if I have to. I'll find the money," Liam said.
"No. You'll end up dying there. I don't want you to die too…"
"You're not going to die!" Liam shouted as he stormed out of the room.
Outside, he struggled to control himself. He had a fight scheduled that afternoon and he could not let his emotions overwhelm him.
For two years now, those fights had been how they survived. The arena matches involved fighters battling exotic animals or even each other, all for the amusement of the nobles.
Damn it, Liam thought as he sat in the corridor of the arena. The doctor's words would not leave his mind, and soon it would be his turn.
"Excuse me?"
Liam raised his head and saw a man dressed as a knight offering him his hand.
"What do you want from me?" Liam asked harshly.
The knight smiled before lowering his hand when Liam refused to take it.
"I saw you fighting in the arena a few days ago. You have good reflexes. You would make a very good knight."
Those words struck Liam's heart like blows. He still remembered the time when he proudly wanted to become a knight.
"So what? Get lost. You're bothering me," Liam replied as he stood up.
"You could become a knight," the man continued anyway.
"Leave me alone!" Liam snapped.
The knight sighed.
"Don't you want to save your mother?" he asked.
Liam grabbed the knight by the collar.
"How do you know my mother?" he demanded.
"What matters here is not how I know her, but that I can save her."
Liam noticed that the man remained completely calm. In fact, it seemed as if he had expected everything to happen this way.
"Who are you?" Liam asked.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is the offer I have for you."
"Can you really heal my mother?"
Liam did not want to give himself false hope. Why would God send him such a savior? He who had never known luck in his life.
"I can. But on one condition. You must work as a knight for my mistress, a young noblewoman."
Liam looked down the corridor leading to the arena. If he missed this match, he would not have enough money to buy his mother's medicine. But if this knight was telling the truth…
"Make the right choice," the knight said, as if aware of the battle raging inside him.
Liam followed the knight to a carriage parked outside the arena. He hesitated when the knight opened the door for him.
What if they were human traffickers? he wondered.
He glanced inside the carriage. The only person inside was sitting quietly, wrapped in a cloak that hid even her face.
He swallowed nervously and climbed inside.
When they arrived at his house, the knight and the cloaked woman entered with him.
"Who are these people?" his mother asked.
Liam did not know what to say, so he stood in front of the bed, ready to intervene at the slightest suspicious movement.
"Do what you promised. Heal her, and I will do anything you want," he said, his voice tight.
The woman accompanying the knight stepped forward and removed her hood.
Liam had never seen a woman so beautiful in his life. She had deep green eyes and two-toned hair. It was as if every time you looked at her from another angle, you discovered a different person.
"I will heal her," the woman said simply as she approached his mother.
Liam did not know why, but he knew this woman was not ordinary. It was not only because of her beauty. There was something else emanating from her, something he could not explain.
The young woman made a brilliant light appear, almost blinding, which covered his mother completely.
Liam immediately fell to his knees.
She was the miracle he had been waiting for.
He who had always wondered what purpose his miserable life had served now had the answer: all those misfortunes had been nothing but a chain of events leading to his meeting with her.
His miracle.
When she finished healing his mother, she turned toward him, and the knight stepped forward.
"Kneel, knight, for today you have found your mistress. From this day forward, your body and your soul belong to the woman before you: Lady Selen Ravenhurt."
Liam obeyed immediately. They could have asked him to lick her shoes and he would have done so without hesitation.
"I, Liam—whose family name I will keep hidden—swear from this day forward to give my body and soul to my mistress. I will raise my sword only for the purpose of serving her."
The knight drew his sword, which his mistress took to knight him.
He had finally become a knight.
And this time he would not fail his duty to his mistress.