"To people like you, even if the strength is strong, you are just ves that are just a superior kind of ves."


    Corbin''s words hung in the air between us, cold and cutting. The helicopter''s rhythmic thrum seemed to fade into the background as I met his gaze.


    "Is that what you truly believe?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the anger building inside me. "That worth is determined by birth alone?"


    A hint of surprise flickered across his face, quickly reced by amusement. "You disagree? How... predictable."


    "I believe a man''s worth is measured by his actions, not his bloodline."


    Corbin leaned back, studying me with renewed interest. "Ah, themon man''s philosophy. Comforting, isn''t it? The fantasy that you could ever stand among your betters."


    I refused to be baited. "If breeding is all that matters, why bother with cultivation? Why not simply rest on your illustrious name?"


    His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful, Knight. That tongue of yours will get you killed one day."


    "Perhaps. But at least I''ll die speaking truth, not hiding behind century-old reputations."


    The silence that followed was thick enough to cut. Corbin''s fingers drummed rhythmically against his armrest, the only indication of his irritation.


    "My father seems to think highly of you," he finally said. "Though his judgment has been... questionabletely."


    "Michael Ashworth strikes me as a wise man." <b ss="meta-ref-static">This version is sourced from MV3L3MPYR.</b>


    "He was once. Age and sentiment have weakened him." Corbin nced toward the partition separating us from the others. "He speaks of destiny and prophecy now. Foolishness."


    I said nothing, sensing it was better to listen than respond.


    "Originally, I intended to gift you North Province Ind," Corbin continued, surprising me. "A reward for your service to my family. But I see now that would be unwise."


    "You believe I''d abuse such power?"


    Heughed, a short, sharp sound without humor. "No. I believe you''d try to use it to elevate yourself beyond your station. Better to keep you hungry, scrambling for scraps."


    My jaw tightened. "I don''t need your handouts, Corbin."


    "Mr. Ashworth," he corrected coldly. "And yes, you do. Everyone does. That''s the natural order of things. The Ashworths provide, others serve."


    The helicopter began its descent before I could respond. Through the window, I could see the sprawling Ashworth estateing into view – a massivepound of elegant buildings surrounded by meticulously manicured gardens.


    "We''ve reached an impasse," Corbin said, straightening his already immacte suit. "You won''t ept your ce, and I won''t pretend you''re my equal. Remember this conversation when reality finally catches up to you."


    Thending was smooth, almost imperceptible. As the rotors slowed, Corbin released the partition. Isabelle immediately moved to my side, her eyes searching my face with concern.


    "Are you alright?" she asked quietly. "My uncle can be... intense."


    "I''m fine," I assured her, conscious of Corbin''s gaze on us. "Just a difference of opinion."


    Michael was helped from the helicopter by two attendants, his frailty more apparent now that we were safely home. Despite his weakness, he carried himself with dignity.


    "Liam," he called, gesturing for me to approach. "Walk with me."


    Corbin stepped between us. "Father, you need rest. The doctor is waiting—"


    "The doctor can wait," Michael said firmly. "I wish to speak with Liam."


    Before Corbin could object further, Isabelle intervened. "Uncle, please. Grandfather''s been through enough today."


    Corbin''s jaw clenched, but he stepped aside. As I moved past him, he whispered, "This changes nothing."


    I followed Michael and Isabelle into the main house, a structure that seemed more pce than home. Servants appeared from nowhere, bowing respectfully as we passed.


    "Grandfather needs to rest first," Isabelle said, leading us to afortable sitting room. "We can talk afterward."


    Michael nodded, sinking gratefully into a plush chair. "Just a moment''s respite, then."


    While Isabelle arranged for refreshments, I found myself examining the room''s details – ancient artworks, priceless antiques, subtle disys of wealth that made even the Sterling family''s possessions lookmonce inparison.


    "Overwhelmed?" Michael asked, noticing my wandering gaze.


    "It''s... impressive," I admitted.


    He smiled tiredly. "All this... means nothing in the end. Remember that, Liam."


    The door opened, and a stern-faced doctor entered, followed by several nurses. Isabelle gestured for me to follow her out, giving her grandfather privacy.


    "I''m sorry about my uncle," she said when we were alone in the hallway. "He doesn''t understand... what you mean to me."


    Her fingers brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that sent warmth through my body. "I don''t care what he thinks," I told her honestly.


    "You should," she warned. "Corbin Ashworth is not a man to cross lightly."


    Before I could respond, raised voices from another room caught our attention. Isabelle frowned, moving toward the sound. I followed cautiously.


    Through a partially open door, we could see Corbin engaged in a heated argument with Michael, who had apparently dismissed his medical team.


    "—absolutely irresponsible!" Corbin was saying. "The ckthorne alliance is crucial for our position in Veridia!"


    Michael shook his head wearily. "You would force Isabelle into a loveless marriage for political advantage?"


    "It''s her duty! Dashiell ckthorne is a perfect match—"


    "She loves another," Michael interjected. "Or are you blind to that as well?"


    Beside me, Isabelle tensed. Her hand found mine, squeezing tightly.


    "Thatmoner?" Corbin scoffed. "You would throw away generations of careful alliance-building for some upstart from Havenwood?"


    Michael''s voice dropped, bing grave. "Have you forgotten the prophecy? The warning from Liam''s father?"


    This caught me by surprise. My father had known the Ashworths?


    "More superstitious nonsense," Corbin dismissed. "I make my own fate."


    "Three years," Michael said, his voice suddenly strong. "That''s what was foretold. Three years until our family faces doom. Unless—"


    "Unless we embrace this nobody?" Corbinughed harshly. "I''ll save the Ashworth name my way. I''ve already secured North Province Ind from that fool Ivan."


    "You did what?" Michael straightened, rm clear on his face.


    "It''s done. His holdings are now ours. The transfer papers were signed this morning—willingly or otherwise."


    Michael slumped back in his chair, looking suddenly decades older. "Your ambition will be our undoing, son."


    Isabelle pulled me away from the door, her face pale. "We shouldn''t be listening," she whispered, though her expression told me she''d heard nothing new.


    We retreated to a small garden area, the evening air cool against my skin. For several minutes, we sat in silence, each lost in thought.


    "What prophecy was your grandfather referring to?" I finally asked.


    Isabelle hesitated. "It''s...plicated. Something about a great cmity facing our family. Grandfather believes you''re somehow connected to our survival."


    "Me? Why would I—"


    "Liam." Michael''s voice interrupted us. He stood at the garden entrance, leaning heavily on a cane I hadn''t seen before. Despite his physical weakness, his eyes were sharp and clear.


    "Sir, you should be resting," I said, rising quickly.


    He waved away my concern. "Time is a luxury I may not have much of. Would you join me for a game of chess?"


    The request seemed odd given the circumstances, but I nodded. "Of course."


    Michael led us to a small study where an ornate chess set waited on a table by the window. As we yed, I noticed his health seemed to deteriorate before my eyes. His hands trembled slightly, and his breathing grew morebored.


    Despite his condition, his mind remained razor-sharp. He anticipated my moves with uncanny precision, gradually backing me into an elegant checkmate.


    "Well yed," I conceded.


    He smiled faintly. "You held your own. Most don''tst half as long."


    Setting aside the pieces, he fixed me with an intense gaze. "Liam,e along with me. I''ll take you somewhere."


    "Where?" I asked, surprised by the sudden request.


    His eyes held a mixture of fear and determination. "You''ll see when we arrive. It''s time you learned certain truths."


    Isabelle looked concerned. "Grandfather, in your condition—"


    "This cannot wait," he insisted, his voice brooking no argument. "Liam must know."


    The urgency in his tone sent a chill down my spine. Whatever secret Michael Ashworth was about to share, I sensed it would change everything.