Honor Thy Father 소설 & 이야기

Lord Saints POV The ripples of the stream as it made its way through the rocks was the only sound I could hear.. The night was still and silent. In my hands was a picture of my father, my mother and the four year old me, standing on the very same rock at which I stood. A tear drop fell from my eyes as I crouched down to touch the wet gray rock. My father had engraved our names on it using the staff of honour. He had told me severally that as a king, your honour should never be doubted. And anytime you go astray from the way of honour, you needed to be cleansed.

“It doesn’t work that way.” “It just did.” Jase stood, but I caught his hand. “Lance, you would never take Addie’s life... or our son’s!” I pleaded with him. “Lance?” He let out a deep breath. “Leila, you must understand. Where I come from, when I came from, honor is all.” I stood abruptly, turning his face to mine. “Then I hope you damn well know what you’re doing because I will not lose my son... no matter what.”

Viktor started. "Family honor?" I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Let me tell you what honor looks like."I stopped behind Dmitri's chair and put my good hand on his shoulder. "Honor is fifteen years of loyalty. Honor is never questioning orders, never asking for more money, never complaining about danger." I looked around the table. "Honor is not blood relatives who think they deserve power just because they share my grandfather's DNA." "Blood matters," Viktor said stubbornly. "Family matters. Tradition matters."

But Dad surprises me by coming over to me and giving me a hug. “I wish you all well here, protected by Odin, Thor, and all our gods,” he says to us all. And we all thank him with the respect he deserves. “You, my daughter, be happy. Find your happiness.” He says, and I nod my head. “Yes, Father,” I answer, and he comes so close that only I can hear him. “Find love. I will keep him away for as long as I can. I am sorry I put you in this position.” He whispers, but I don’t answer.

— Father is the Grand Creator His Word is Infallible, and Must Be Obeyed Those Who Oppose Father’s Word Must Be Destroyed —

"Dad, I love Mikhail." "Love?!" Zakhar's voice thunders in the room as he glares at me. "Have you not been listening to me? Do you think love will save you? Sometimes, good people don't win. You have no idea how deeply honor, vengeance, and loyalty to family run in this world." Dad paces the room and stops in front of the window again. There's nothing out there, but I wonder what he sees in his mind. Is he thinking about what he should have done?

"You do the complete opposite of everything you demand from others. You're a fraud!" My father's face hardens, some of his usual authority returning. "Watch your tone, son. You don't understand the full situation." "Then explain it to me!" I challenge, stepping closer to him. "Explain how you justify this. Explain how having an illegitimate child is somehow acceptable when you've spent my entire life drilling honor and responsibility into my head."

“So that’s what 'your honor' means? After everything you taught me, you just hand me over like an animal?” “Honor dies with debt,” he answered flatly. Tears poured down my cheeks. I shook my head, refusing to believe that the man who raised me would do something this vile. “I’ll work. I swear I’ll repay everything. Just don’t send me to that place. Not to him. Please, Father. I’m your daughter,” I begged. I reached for his hand. But he slapped it away and shoved me back hard enough that my skull snapped against the grain sack.

In the seventh year of our marriage, my wife, Serena Clark, digs up my parents' urns and places them in front of me. Then she gives me two choices. "Either give your designs to Seth so he can enter the competition, or I'll scatter your parents' ashes into the sea," she says. Clutching the designs I've just finished, I swallow my pride and give in as tears burn in my eyes. The next day, a photo of Seth Johnson sitting on a yacht scattering ashes goes viral. Serena comments beneath the photo, "I'll give you everything I have and spoil you rotten." I stare at the urns in the corner of the photo, feeling my blood run cold. My deceased parents and I have become tools Serena uses to please S

“The specifics don’t matter.” “They matter if you want my cooperation.” My father taught me to always be strong, regardless of the opponent I faced. Earning your enemy’s respect was the only saving grace you would ever receive. And if your fate was unavoidable, it was best to go out with honor. I was too proud to kneel for anyone—because that was how I was raised. Damien gave a slow grin. “You’re lucky you’re alive right now.” I glanced to him. “As are you.”