Inheritance

March 15th, Imperial Year 879

It’s amazing how far a dying government will go in search of a good scapegoat.

“Thame.” The judge looked over at me, an exasperated look on his face as he did so. “That’s the name the Baseli family took after their fall, correct?”

I looked down at my feet, averting my eyes from his icy stare.

I wondered then, if my friends were fighting right this moment. I wondered if my family had taken sides in the war. What the professors and students could be doing. Of the political situation in Galeria.

And if Phoebe was okay.

“Correct, your honor.”

Silence fell around the room.

“Jason Thame, great grandson of Emperor Caliros Baseli. Heir to the Thame barony.”

That’s Caliros Baseli “the Wicked”, last emperor of the old dynasty. Thrown out for his barbaric behavior.

And my great grandfather.

“...correct.”

“You were present on the day of the graduation, as a senior student of Cartethene Academy.” He leaned in. “I presume I do not need to waste my time explaining the details.”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Jason Thame, you are accused of attempted regicide, mass murder, and the destruction of royal property. You may be tried as a noble, or as an individual. You may take your pick!” The judge roared, his tone rapidly shifting into something more theatrical, as if that would make the absurdity of having a court while the state doesn’t exist any less reasonable.

“As an individual.”

For a moment, it seemed like there was a whisper of a familiar voice from the murmurs of the crowd. A family member perhaps. Maybe even a close one. I didn’t dare look back. To be tried as a noble would earn me more protection, more privileges, at least normally. But the situation is hardly anything but normal.

And if you are tried under aristocratic law and you are found guilty, your entire family could pay the price.

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure.”

“Very well!” The judge slammed his hammer down onto the table. “Jason Thame, state your case!”

***

Dungeons aren’t exactly designed for comfort.

The trial went about as expected, honestly. I won’t even pretend like I had a chance. But for a moment, I almost had hope.

Whatever the hell. I don’t know these people, and they sure as hell don’t know me. All they cared about was getting someone pinned down.

I grabbed the steel bars and shook them. Yep, no go. And I had left all my weapons and armor with Hannah back in my dorms. I hope she had taken them somewhere safe.

I slumped over onto the ground. It was over. My life had never started and it was already over. Over, over, over.

I’m a knight. I should be on the field.

I stood up and kicked the bars, only to immediately regret it. Finding nothing else to do, I decided that there was nothing left but to lie down and think about everything.

I’m someone meant to be in the history books. My great grandfather may have been a tyrant, but I am still of the blood of heroes and kings.

Jason Thame is not going to fade into oblivion like almost everyone else does.

Or at least, that’s what I always thought before yesterday.

“Jason?” A voice rang down from the hall as a door slowly opened. “Jason, are you okay?”

I don’t know if I should be happy, or if I should wish to disappear.

Hannah, my younger sister, walked down from the hallway as the door to the dungeon room opened up. Logically, I know. I know I should cherish this moment, because I may never see anyone again, for years.

But I just couldn’t face her now. I didn’t do it.

“Jason, it’s me, Hannah.” Hannah now had her hands on the bars. I somewhat reluctantly looked up to her.

“Hannah. It has…been not a very long time. Miss me already?” I tried to give her a grin, but knowing her, she probably knew it was fake.

“Jason…” Hannah looked down at the floor. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. I couldn't blame her. Frankly, I couldn't think of anything to say either.

“Jason.” A stronger voice boomed from the top of the stairwell, and immediately, what little courage I’d built up slipped from my stomach. The sound of thick riding boots against the stone floor echoed throughout the dungeon.

“Father?” There he was, my father, accompanied my mother, and my heart sank even further than I knew it could have as the two came in. “Mother too. How…how is the country? Have they found Ph-”

“Galeria? That's what you're worried about, Jason?” My mother opened up. “What are you going to do?”

“You asked for a military trial as well.”

“This is me, and the family is the family. I wouldn’t pull you down with me.” I stood up, irritated. “I’ll figure something out myself, so…please, I would appreciate some privacy-”

“Privacy?” My parents roared in unison. My mother shook her head, burying her face into her hands, while my father now walked closer to the cell, almost fuming. “You will lose your head, and you want privacy?”

“I…”

“We are disappointed in you, Jason. Perhaps that is an understatement. You murdered the king. You will be fortunate to have your life.”

My mother turned from me, taking Hannah’s hand.

“Let’s go dear.” Hannah turned around, glancing at me once more, but she accepted being pulled up by our mother.

“I didn’t do it, Hannah.” I said to her, as they left. My mother briefly turned to me, surprised, but looked away and went back up with Hannah in tow. The great wooden door out of the dungeon opened, and slammed shut with a clatter, the metal bits shaking against one another.

My father looked at me with a strange expression I couldn’t quite read before he sighed and turned around.

“I’m sorry Jason, we need to protect the rest of the family.” My father sighed. “Thank you, I suppose, if you were trying to protect us. I cannot say the same to you.”

And with that, he too began to ascend back up the stairs out of the prison, leaving me alone in my cell.