Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 48: The Grand Children 2

Chapter 48: The Grand Children 2

"Master, I am sorry," Jethru’s voice trembled as he knelt beside the frail old man’s bed. His broad shoulders shook, and his fingers dug into the flesh of his palms. "I didn’t know. If I had, I would have come back... even if it cost me my life."

Tears streamed down his weathered face, releasing pent-up emotions that was bottled up for so long.

Outside the room, Lara, who had just finished settling Sandoz, heard the raw emotion in his voice. She paused, brows furrowing, then, with quiet steps, moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against the wood.

Beneath her, Sandoz mimicked her movements, curiosity shining in his wide eyes.

From the kitchen, Reya, holding a knife mid-chop, noticed their odd behavior. Her gaze flitted from the half-cut vegetables to the two figures at the door, their heads tilted in unison. With a bemused expression, she wiped her hands on her dress and joined them, pressing an ear to the wood.

Inside, Samuel’s voice, though weak, carried an unmistakable sternness.

"You brat!" he scolded. "It’s a good thing you didn’t come back. The day you escaped, the soldiers—led by the Cardils—stormed into my home, accusing me of aiding your disappearance. But of course, they found no proof no matter what they did." He exhaled, his thin chest rising and falling slowly. "Even if I had wanted to help you then, my hands were tied."

Jethru clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms, but he barely felt the sting. "My escape was a fluke, Master. I was simply at the right place at the right time." His voice wavered as he recounted the tale of how fate had spared him.

Samuel listened in silence, his old eyes studying the man kneeling before him, before he finally asked, "But why did you not return after so long? You could have disguised yourself."

Jethru’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the knot of emotion. "I tried, Master. I truly did. But by the time I gathered enough courage, I heard the news—Julian Cardil was marrying the daughter of a grandmaster from a renowned martial school. And who else could that be but Naomi?" He let out a bitter chuckle, though it lacked any real amusement.

"I was devastated. But then, I convinced myself it was for the best. Julian had a promising future, and Naomi..." He clenched his jaw. "She deserved someone who could provide her with stability. Besides, even if I was innocent, I was still a fugitive in the eyes of the law."

Samuel’s frail fingers twitched. His lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled sharply. "You fool," he said, shaking his head. "Did I not teach you to ’never assume’? Did I not tell you to verify before drawing conclusions?"

Jethru lowered his head in shame.

Behind the door, Lara bit her lower lip, suppressing a grin. Her all-powerful master, the one who could strike fear into the hearts of warriors, was being thoroughly scolded by a frail old man.

Samuel continued, his voice tinged with both sorrow and frustration. "Naomi never wanted to marry Julian. Even when he kneeled before her, pleading, she rejected him. In the end, Julian left our school and joined the Mighty Eagles Sect."

Jethru’s head snapped up, eyes widening. "The Mighty Eagles? But aren’t they—?"

"My fiercest competitors," Samuel confirmed. A shadow passed over his face. "It was a heavy blow, but I would never force Naomi into a marriage she did not want. In his anger, Julian married the daughter of the Grandmaster of the Mighty Eagles."

Jethru’s jaw tightened. "How could he do that, Master? After all the years you spent training him—after all the resources you poured into his growth—he turned his back on you, and your enemy benefited!"

Samuel sighed. "It is already in the past."

A long silence stretched between them before Jethru finally asked, "Master... Naomi... What happened to her?"

Samuel’s expression grew heavy as if the weight of years pressed upon him all at once. "She suffered, Jethru." His voice was barely above a whisper. "After you disappeared, she was convinced you had died. She waited... for so long."

Jethru clenched his teeth, but the remorse was too strong to contain. "I am sorry, Master," he choked out. His voice cracked, and he bowed deeper, forehead touching the wooden floor.

Behind the door, even the three eavesdroppers felt the weight of his sorrow.

Samuel closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "Perhaps it was for the best," he murmured.

Jethru flinched. How could that possibly be for the best?

Samuel continued, his voice softer now. "Naomi tried to hide her pregnancy. She succeeded for a long time... until the day she gave birth. Only then did I find out that she was carrying your child."

Jethru’s breath hitched. His heart pounded against his ribs. "I—I have a child?" Samuel mentioned it earlier, but the second time, it still came like a bomb.

Samuel’s gaze softened. "You had a son. Elijah." He paused, then continued, "Julian was furious when he learned of it. He made life difficult for me, for my students. For Naomi."

Jethru’s hands curled into fists. "I dragged you into my problems. I—"

"No." Samuel shook his head. "If anything, I should be the one to apologize. It was because of my school, because of Naomi, that you were schemed against in the first place."

Jethru could barely breathe. He had spent years believing he was alone in the world, never knowing that Naomi had waited for him. That she had carried his child.

"When Elijah was born," Samuel continued, "it was as if the old Naomi had returned. Her eyes regained their light. She smiled again." He closed his eyes for a long moment, as if reliving a distant memory. "Elijah had your eyes, your eyebrows. I thought... I thought we could finally live in peace." His voice wavered. "But fate had other plans. Naomi died in an accident when Elijah was still a child."

The words slammed into Jethru like a hammer. His breath came in ragged gasps. The room blurred as fresh tears poured from his eyes. He gripped the edge of the bed, his body wracked with grief.

And then, as if the floodgates had been torn open, he wailed.

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