Chapter 48: The Weight of Marriage
**Aldrich’s POV**
“A misunderstanding?” I repeated, confused by my father’s explanation.
He didn’t elaborate further, only responding cryptically, “It’s a confidentiality agreement. The case has been closed, and the details cannot be disclosed. But rest assured, it was indeed a misunderstanding. The secrecy is to protect the students involved.”
I frowned. “If secrecy is the priority, then why did the newspapers expose the incident?”
My father let out a disdainful chuckle. “The press? They thrive on sensationalism. But, my son, you’ve been in the military long enough to understand the Intricacies of politics. The truth is often twisted to serve an agenda.”
Though he didn’t state it outright, I understood what he meant. Someone among the elders was likely stirring trouble for the King.
It wasn’t uncommon for the Lycan King to face criticism, and much of it stemmed from the fact that he had no heirs. Some within the council sought to use this as leverage to weaken his reign, exploiting even minor incidents to fuel discontent. These same elders enjoyed the King’s protection while scheming to undermine him–a hypocrisy that frustrated many loyalists.
After two days of uneasy interactions with my father, he finally revealed the reason for summoning me home. It was Monday morning when he broached the subject, his tone measured but tinged with sentimentality.
“Time flies,” he began, his gaze lingering on me as though trying to memorize every detail. ” In the blink of an eye, you’ve grown into a man of strength and honor.”
His words made me uncomfortable, especially as his eyes occasionally drifted to my arm, as if searching for something.
“Children grow up–it’s inevitable,” I replied lightly. “I still remember when I was young, you used to call me a little monkey and complain about my antics. You’d always say you couldn’t wait for me to grow up and bother my wife instead of you.”
My father laughed at the memory, a rare sound that filled the room. It was a moment of warmth I hadn’t experienced in years.
“Yes, you’re at the age to marry and start a family now,” he said, his tone turning serious. Tell me, have you found your mate yet?”
The question caught me off guard. “What? No,” I stammered, shaking my head quickly. “I’ve been too focused on my military duties to think about marriage. I’ll consider it when I’ve
established myself.”
My father shook his head in disagreement. “That’s not the right mindset. If every werewolf waited until they were ‘successful‘ to find a mate, the laws would have us marrying at forty.”
I smiled faintly. “I won’t wait that long. Maybe in a few years, when I feel more prepared. Right now, I don’t think I’m ready to take on the responsibilities of marriage.”
In truth, Thelma often occupied my thoughts. Her radiant smile and determined spirit were etched into my heart, but I felt inadequate. I couldn’t even comfort her properly when she was upset–how could I possibly be a husband worthy of her?
My father didn’t press the issue but instead shared his own love story. “When I met your mother, I was just a carefree young man, nowhere near as disciplined as you. Back then, I had no direction, but the Moon Goddess blessed me with the love of my life.
“She was my guiding star. We fell in love, got married, and had you. Your mother was strict
and den, always pushing me to improve myself. Whenever I resisted, she’d threaten to take
you and return to her parents‘ house. I had no choice but to grow into the man she believed I could be.
“Eventually, I became the King’s trusted ally, earning the honor our family holds today. But it came at a cost…” His voice faltered, his eyes clouding with sorrow. “Your mother is no longer here. No matter how much I achieve, it feels hollow without her by my side.”
His grief was raw, and it stirred emotions I hadn’t expected. For the first time, I noticed how much he had aged. The tall, commanding figure I remembered from my youth now seemed slightly hunched, his movements slower and more deliberate. Sitting by the window, he looked less like the formidable Duke and more like a lonely man longing for simpler times.
“Son,” he continued, his tone softer, “the Moon Goddess has a plan for all of us. Some are lucky enough to find their true love and cherish it, while others let it slip away, never realizing its value until it’s too late. Love, whether it’s a fated mate, a chance encounter, or a bond built over time, is fragile. If you’re not careful, it can vanish like a goldfish slipping back into a pond.”
I was deeply moved by his words. It wasn’t like him to speak so openly about matters of the heart. His clear eyes bore into mine, as if searching for an answer I wasn’t ready to give.
“Marriage is not just a duty–it’s a responsibility,” he said firmly.
For a brief moment, I wanted to tell him about Thelma, to confess the depth of my feelings for her. But I held back. It wouldn’t be fair to speak of her without her consent. Whatever we shared was sacred, and until she was ready, I would keep it close to my heart.
My father seemed to sense my hesitation but didn’t push further. Instead, he returned to his usual composed demeanor, sipping coffee and reviewing documents with an air of detachment.
“Why are you still here?” he asked after a while, glancing up from his papers. “Your leave is almost over, Sir Aldrich. Go pack your things before you’re late and earn the ire of your soldiers.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his sharp tone, which masked the affection underneath. It was clear that time had softened him. The strict disciplinarian of my childhood had mellowed into someone who wasn’t afraid to show his emotions, even if it was in his own roundabout way.
Before leaving the room, I turned back and gave him a firm hug.
“I love you, Father,” I said quietly.
For a moment, he was stunned. Then, he returned the embrace, his voice trembling slightly. You little brat. The army is tough–take care of yourself.”
It was a fleeting moment of vulnerability, but it stayed with me. As I walked away, I felt a renewed determination to honor the lessons he had taught me about love, responsibility, and the fleeting nature of time.
