Chapter 27 The Impossible Grandchild (1/2)

He might have worn the same luxurious clothing and finery. He might have conducted business with the same arrogance and pride. He might have even still used his position of authority like he was a god. But the simple fact was that Duke Cornelius Kildare was not the man he had once been.

The loss of his third son had been more impactful than first thought. His son had run away with that country wench, denouncing his name and the assets that came with it, then, to add insult to injury, had spread damning rumours regarding the Volotun Fruit. Cornelius had decided that the worst possible punishment he could give his son, was to grant him what he desired.

Phillip was no longer considered a Kildare. He had been erased from the family registry and all contacts had been severed. Cornelius had thought this sufficient.

Then a year passed with no contact...then two...then ten.

Nothing, not even a peep.

Cornelius that thought for sure that the boy would seek aid at some point or another, but no word had ever come.

And worse still, the Elf that had saved them that day had used the last of his natural power to curse the entirety of the Kildare line. Cornelius had only ever heard about Elven curses in stories. They were only ever given to those who had committed the worst sins, but they were powerful. Powerful enough to last thousands of years without ever fading. Cornelius remembered every word that Elf had spoken.

”For their arrogance, greed and malicious intentions, I curse the Kildare bloodline. May only those who do not boast the name Kildare and all it encompasses be blessed with offspring”.

Cornelius had laughed at the picture of the dying Elf. But that had been then. When Francois was married a few months later, he had tried for months to conceive with his wife. Months turned to years, and they bore no fruit. William had been the same. Even his daughter, Patricia, who would only inherit a dowry, had not been capable of conceiving after her arranged marriage.

But the news grew worse still...the royal bloodline was incapable of conceiving as well.

This had been heavily concealed from the public. So top secret was it that Cornelius had not even told his own wife of the news. For if news got out that a damned Elven curse had stripped the great Kildare bloodline of their capability to produce heirs, it would be devestating for the entire empire. An Emperor incapable of producing an heir was no Emperor. What was clear was they needed to find a way to break the curse, and it was entirely feasible that they only had a decade more to do it before their children grew too old. Considering this first decade had seen no progress, Cornelius was losing hope.

Ludwig entered the Duke's office with his usualy unemotive air.

”My Lord, Knight General Turney requests an immediate audience. He insists that the news he brings is urgent,” Ludwig reported.

The Duke sighed, he had been unmotivated in his current work anyway. What was the use in sustaining an empire that would fall upon the current Emperor's death. He had perhaps 40 years left in him if he were to die of old age, but that was hardly feasible in a deteriorating political environment.

”Bring him in”.

Ludwig gave a short bow then exited. A few moments later, Knight General Turney entered with quite the flabberghasted expressed.

”God Lord Turney,” Cornelius sighed, ”What has happened to make you even uglier than usual?”