Chapter 11
“If I didn’t have a wife, where do you think you’d come from?” Alaric responded with a touch of helplessness.
Harry blinked, processing the answer, then felt a slight twinge of disappointment. It seemed that he and Caspian weren’t long-lost twins after all. But how could they look so alike?
“One last question,” Harry said, looking up at Alaric. “Why did I run away from home?”
Alaric thought to himself, Caspian’s amnesia is real; he doesn’t remember any of this, which is probably for the best—especially forgetting Galatea. Out loud, he said, “You weren’t eating properly, and I lost my temper and scolded you.”
“Over that?” Harry asked, surprised.
Alaric nodded.
Is Caspian that sensitive? Harry thought. My mom must have disciplined him countless times, and they’re still very close. He never even thought about running away from home. Kids from wealthy families sure are fragile.
“Now that I know what I need to do, can I see my grandma and mom?” Harry asked, eager to meet these people and dig deeper into whether his resemblance to Caspian was just a coincidence or something more.
“Your grandma’s on vacation abroad and can’t come back right now,” Alaric replied.
“Wow, my grandma really knows how to live it up. What about my mom?” Harry asked, his curiosity growing. “Is she out of the country too?”
“No,” Alaric said. “I’ll contact her right away. You’ll see her very soon.”
“All right, Dad!” Harry grinned.
“Then go ahead and eat,” Alaric said.
“Sure thing, I’m starving.” Harry hadn’t eaten since he left with Galatea, and now his hunger was so intense, it was hard to focus on anything else.
When Harry sat at the dinner table, he was stunned by the lavish spread before him. He stared at it, wide-eyed, before turning to Alaric.
“Is all this for me?” he asked in amazement.
“Yes.”
Harry blinked again. Wealthy people sure know how to dine in style, he thought. This much food, and it’s just for me?
“Dad, don’t prepare so much next time. I can’t eat it all,” Harry said, shaking his head.
Alaric paused, confused. Caspian, with his special dietary restrictions, couldn’t eat as he pleased. I’ve always tried to give him more options so he wouldn’t feel deprived, but Harry…
Harry, sensing the moment’s tension, turned to Liona, who had been quietly waiting.
“Liona, why don’t you join these lovely ladies and have a seat with us?” he suggested warmly.
Liona’s eyes widened in surprise. She quickly replied, “You are the master, and we are but servants. How can we sit at the same table and eat with you? It would not be proper!”
Harry was genuinely puzzled. Mia, their nanny, is treated with such maternal reverence by my mom. Why are there so many rules here?
He frowned, then spoke up decisively. “Since you call me ‘master,’ my word is law in this house. So, my rule is the rule. I want you to sit and dine with me, understand?”
Liona froze, her face full of uncertainty. She turned to Alaric, seeking confirmation. “Mr. Knight, may we?”
Alaric, seeing the situation play out, nodded with a small smile. “Just do as he says.”
“Yes, sir.” Liona, along with the other maids, finally took their places at the table, sitting down with Harry.
Harry smiled to himself. This really is a feast fit for a king. It’s exactly what Elisa’s been craving. He chuckled softly to himself. If Elisa knew I was here enjoying all of this alone, she’d be very upset. I’ll have to make sure she gets to enjoy it too!
“Hey, Dad,” Harry asked casually, after a moment of silence. “Can I bring a friend over to hang out?”
Alaric paused, blinking in surprise. “A friend? Do you even have any friends?”
Harry raised an eyebrow, confused. “Why can’t I have friends?” he asked, the question genuinely baffling him. He had always been well-liked at school—teachers adored him, and his classmates, too, seemed to gravitate toward him.
Alaric still found it hard to believe. And then another question surfaced. “Caspian, if you’re amnesiac, how do you remember your friend?”
Harry shrugged, nonchalant. “Maybe I have selective amnesia? I only remember her name—Elisa. Everything else is gone. We resemble each other quite a bit.”
Alaric turned to Liona, frowning. “Did Caspian have a classmate like that?”
Liona looked just as puzzled as Alaric. “I have so many classmates, how could you possibly know each one?” she answered.
Harry sighed, growing impatient. “Dad, you still haven’t answered my question. Can I invite Elisa over to hang out?”
“Of course!” Alaric said, finally warming up to the idea. The notion that Caspian had made a friend delighted him. How could I object?
Harry smiled. “Thanks, Dad.” He dug into his food eagerly, relieved that Alaric had approved.
Meanwhile, when Orion saw the incoming call from Alaric, she froze, almost dropping her phone. She hastily answered.
“Hello, Alaric.”
“Caspian wants to see you. Come home immediately,” Alaric’s voice was urgent.
“Caspian wants to see me?” Orion repeated in disbelief. “How is that possible?”
“It’s a long story, but to put it briefly, Caspian hit his head and ended up with amnesia. In other words, he’s forgotten everything from his past. This is your golden opportunity. If you can’t make Caspian fall for you now, don’t bother coming back home!” With that, Alaric hung up.
Amnesia? Orion was skeptical.
That little scoundrel’s always causing trouble, Orion thought, her face hardening as she muttered to herself. If it weren’t for needing to charm Alaric, I wouldn’t even bother with Caspian.
Mrs. Marigold had spun a tall tale for Alaric, and in the guise of Caspian’s mother, Orion had adopted the fictitious identity of Mrs. Knight. But a lie, no matter how carefully crafted, remained a lie.
She still hadn’t figured out whether her scheming had paid off or if she was simply lost.
Forget it. I’ll endure it for now. To marry Alaric, I can put up with anything, she thought, a smug smile creeping across her lips as she primped in front of the mirror. After the wedding, I’ll find a way to get rid of Caspian, and everything will be perfect.