Chapter 1

I was enjoying a quiet afternoon, lounging on my couch with a refreshing glass of iced tea and a novel written by my son. It had been three decades since I had retired from my former life as an assassin. As I felt my body begin to weaken, I knew I could no longer stay in the business. But that didn't mean I was ready to stop working altogether.

In my retirement, I decided to pursue a new career in politics. It was a refreshing change from the violence and danger of my former life, and I found that I enjoyed the challenge of navigating the complex world of government and public policy. Despite my age, I was still sharp and had a keen eye for strategy and manipulation, honed from years of working in the shadows.

As I turned the pages of my son's book, I felt a sense of pride in his accomplishments. He was a talented writer, and I was happy to support his endeavors. I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction in the life I had created for myself, one that was far removed from the bloodshed and chaos of my past.

The novel was a standard hero story but I couldn't help but be impressed by my son's writing skills. He had always been interested in writing similar to his mother, and I could see that she had inspired him in his own work.

As I reached the climax of the story, I felt a sudden pain in my chest. It was a familiar sensation, one that I had experienced before and despite my best efforts to stay healthy, my years of living a dangerous and stressful life had caught up with me. I tried to catch my breath, but it felt like a weight was pressing down on my chest.

I knew what was happening. I was having a heart attack. As my vision began to blur, I thought of all the things I had accomplished in my life. I had lived a long and eventful life, but I still had regrets. I wished I had spent more time with my family and friends, instead of chasing after the next job.

As the light began to fade, I took comfort in the fact that I had left behind a legacy. My son would carry on the family name and make his own mark on the world. With my final breath, I whispered goodbye to my loved ones and closed my eyes for the last time.

The book slipped from my hands, and I knew that I would never get to read the final pages. But I was at peace, knowing that I had lived a full life and that my son would continue the legacy that I had left behind

—---------------.

The sound of trumpets echoed through the castle walls as news of the count's new son spread through the kingdom. The count and his wife had waited years for this child, and their joy was shared by all who lived in the mansion.

As the count's wife held her newborn son in her arms, gazing down at the tiny, delicate features of her son, his piercing gaze seemed to take in everything around him. The count, a stern man in his early forties with a full beard, stood by his wife's side as they looked down at their newborn son.

"He's perfect," the count said, his eyes shining with pride.

His wife, a gentle woman with curly brown hair, nodded in agreement. "He is."

"He's going to be great," the count continued, "He's going to be the heir to our legacy, and we'll make sure he's prepared for anything that comes his way." With that, the count called for his most trusted advisor, Gustav, to join them in the birthing chamber.

Gustav shuffled into the birthing chamber with a grin plastered across his wrinkled face. "Congratulations, my lord, my lady," he said, bowing deeply. "This is a momentous occasion for our province."

The count nodded, his eyes fixed on his newborn son. "Indeed it is, Gustav. We have waited for this child for so long, and now he is finally here."

Gustav approached the count's wife and took a closer look at the newborn. "He has your eyes, my lady," he said, smiling at her. "And your husband's strong chin."

The count's wife smiled, and the count himself beamed with pride. "He's a strong lad, Gustav," the count said.

"Have you decided his name, my lady?" Gustav asked.

"Yes, his name is Lucas," the countess said with a bright smile.