NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: A trash?
Draco's eyelids began to flutter open as he slowly regained consciousness. At first, his vision was blurry, the surroundings hazy and indistinct. But as he struggled to focus, the image before him became clearer, and when his eyes fully opened, the sight was startling.
A massive woman loomed over him, holding him gently in her arms.
The woman was dressed in a long, brown gown that looked as if it belonged to a time long past—like something a maiden would wear in medieval days. Her short, dark hair framed a face marked by age, with wrinkles creasing her skin, but her warm smile was reassuring. She looked down at the tiny baby in her arms, her expression softening further.
"It's a baby boy, Your Grace," she said, her voice gentle but clear as she shifted her gaze to the woman lying on the bed.
The woman in the bed was drenched in sweat, her face contorted in exhaustion. The sheets beneath her were soaked in both blood and sweat, evidence of the grueling ordeal she had just endured. She was panting heavily, the fatigue evident in every shallow breath she took, yet despite the strain, her gaze remained fixed on the newborn child.
Draco lay still in the woman's arms, his small eyes darting around the room he found himself in, taking in the surroundings. He caught a glimpse of the exhausted woman on the bed, and something instinctively told him that this woman was important—she was his mother. Furthermore, the way the maid addressed her gave him an undeniable sense that this woman wasn't just anyone. She was a queen.
Her name was Matilda Athelstan, the Queen of the Valdoria Kingdom.
Matilda wasn't just any woman, either. She had once been the daughter of a neighboring kingdom, one that had been decimated during the Third Generational War. The kingdom, which had fought valiantly, fell before the might of the Valdoria forces. The King of Valdoria, moved by compassion, had taken her in after the war and made her his wife.
During the war, Matilda had fought with everything she had. Her magical prowess far surpassed that of the rest of her kingdom's soldiers, though ultimately, their side had lost. Recognizing her strength and resilience, the King of Valdoria had offered her a new life, and they were now married, with three children—two sons and a daughter. With Draco's arrival, their family had grown to three sons and one daughter.
"Bring the child to me. I need to check his neck," Matilda commanded, her voice steady and filled with authority as she stretched out her arms toward the maid.
The woman holding Draco nodded silently, her hands trembling as she passed the newborn over to the queen. Matilda took the tiny child into her arms with ease, and the first thing she did was glance at his neck.
As she studied the infant's delicate skin, her eyes widened, and a frown marred her face. A flush crept onto her cheeks.
"The mark... I can't find the mark," she blurted out in shock, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Upon hearing the queen's words, the maiden's face grew clouded with sadness.
"What mark is she talking about?" Draco wondered silently, confusion swirling in his infant mind.
The mark Matilda referred to was one every newborn child in their kingdom bore. It was a symbol that denoted whether the child had the potential to awaken a magical ability and become one of the kingdom's elite. Each kingdom had its own unique mark. Some marks resembled a black star, others a crystal shape. In Valdoria, the mark was typically a crescent moon. But because Matilda hailed from the fallen Aldovia kingdom, her children could bear either a crescent moon or a crystal-shaped mark, depending on their lineage.
However, Draco's neck bore no mark at all. Not even the faintest trace of a symbol.
"That means he's a disgrace. I've given birth to nothing but trash," Matilda spat, her tone sharp as she glared down at her newborn son with contempt.
"You can't jump to conclusions, Your Grace. There's a chance the mark will appear as he grows up. You just need to give him time," the maiden interjected softly, her voice filled with concern.
"The mark should have appeared immediately after birth, not later. None of my other children were born without it," Matilda snapped, her eyes narrowing in anger. "His fate has been sealed. He will never awaken magic. He will remain a useless child—there is no solution for him," she spat bitterly.
Draco remained motionless in her arms, wondering how a mother could hate her own child so deeply.
"If other kingdoms hear about this, we'll become a laughingstock. The king will be furious. This child must die," Matilda said coldly, her voice devoid of any warmth or affection.
Draco's eyes widened in shock at her words. His tiny heart began to race in fear.
"Kill him?" The maiden's voice rose in horror as she looked at Matilda, her expression one of disbelief.
"Yes," Matilda responded bluntly. "I can't raise a useless child. It's better to end him now and pretend nothing ever happened."
Before anyone could say another word, a deep male voice rumbled from behind them.
"End what?"
The room fell silent as everyone turned toward the source of the voice. The heavy door swung open, and a tall, imposing figure stepped inside. A middle-aged man with short brown hair, dressed in gleaming silver armor, strode forward. His golden crown gleamed under the light, and a flowing red cape trailed behind him. A sword hung at his side, its blade adorned with signs of numerous battles.
This man was King Geoffrey, the ruler of Valdoria.
The maiden immediately bowed her head in reverence as King Geoffrey walked toward the bed.
"My lord, what are you doing here? I thought you left with the men to hunt down the monsters terrorizing the Whispering Valleys," Matilda demanded, her tone filled with surprise.
"What kind of man would leave his wife in labor?" King Geoffrey replied with a chuckle. He walked toward the queen and extended his hands toward the child. "Let me take a look at my son," he said, his voice steady.
Matilda hesitated, but finally, with a resigned sigh, she handed Draco over to the king.
"What's the matter?" King Geoffrey asked, noticing the tension in the room.
"There's a problem, my lord. A problem with the child," Matilda said quietly, her voice betraying her frustration.
"What kind of problem?" King Geoffrey asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
"He was born without the mark," Matilda informed him, her voice filled with disdain. The king's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the baby in his arms.