Chapter 27 The Impossible Grandchild (2/2)
For once, Turney didn't seem insulted by the comment. He simply stepped forward and placed a folded letter upon Cornelius's desk.
”This...I received it just an hour ago. I thought it best you read it,” Turney stated.
Cornelius looked at the letter, then Turney's expression. Deciding he had nothing better to do, Cornelius picked up the letter, only to freeze at the name scrawled on the outside in an elegant script he never thought he'd see again.
Cornelius didn't exactly know what he expected to feel if he ever encountered evidence of his third son again. Anger? Disappointment? Whatever it was, he had not expected the overwhelming loss that overcame him in that moment. He felt as if a hole had been carved into his heart, and it ached terribly. After a moment's pause, Cornelius opened the letter and read it.
...
...
...
Rassa.
Cornelius had a grandson. His only grandchild. Rassa. In that moment, Cornelius didn't care that the boy had been born of a common mother, he was legitimate. An Heir. An actual Heir that had been conceived after the curse. Cornelius paused for a moment, then read Phillip's words again. It appeared that Rassa would be the only grandchild he would ever get if Phillip had requested something of the Kildares, but Phillip had instead requested this of Turney. Anthrite Chains for a monster that plagued their little corner of nowhere. A monster nobody had ever seen or heard of before.
Cornelius put down the letter. It the curse was to be taken literally, helping Phillip in this venture would likely mean he would be incapable of conceiving more children. As the only one that was currently capable, Cornelius knew he shouldn't risk it. He looked up at Turney.
”Do what you have to...but you cannot use Kildare resources,” Cornelius instructed.
Turney looked grave, but nodded, ”I will therefore requested a leave of absence”.
”No need,” Cornelius stated, ”You have been a great aid to Fountain Ridge for over two decades, Turney, we have no desire to lose you. Return to your post, as your patrons we shall prepare a gift for you”.
Cornelius knew it was a risk. But if it was a gift that Turney had acquired, perhaps the curse would let it pass.
”Do with it what you will”.
Turney nodded, then excused himself, leaving the letter with Cornelius. Again, the old Duke read the letter over, and for the first time in ten years, he felt a sense of happiness.
He had an heir. An assurance that his bloodline could continue. If there was anything to work for, there was that.