Chapter 186: Eyes of Judgment
And then, quietly, he understood. Eyes that black, unlike anything else in this world, were the eyes of judgment.
They were the eyes of the night, asking him of his sins and declaring his punishment.
He had given in to his own emotions, abandoned his son, left him in loneliness, and ruled over him only with the power of a parent. Only now did he realize how unforgivable that cruelty had been.
He had done nothing a parent should do. All he had demanded was duty—the duty to serve as the heir, the eldest son. Never once had he offered even a single kind word. All he had given were harsh commands and cold discipline.
Had he ever seen his son’s smile? Had he ever held that child in his arms when he was still too young to even sit on his own?
When he searched his memory, all that surfaced were lonely expressions, or the frightened face of a small child. And at some point, those looks had turned into a mask of emptiness, stripped of all emotion.
Of course Dominic had cast him aside.
Gabrant had never given him a father’s love.
To that child, he was likely not even a father at all.
He knew Dominic had been called the Iron Knight. A solitary knight who showed no feelings, rejecting all who approached him with the cold hardness of steel. No matter how strong he was, no matter how recognized or admired, Dominic could not have been happy. A soul that rejected everything, locked in loneliness, could never be whole.
And it was Gabrant who had turned his son into that kind of man.
The one who had taken Dominic by the hand, who had awakened feelings within him again, was Shiao Yi—the boy with the eyes of night. To save his pitiful son, it was as if the darkness of the night itself had shaped him and delivered him into this world.
Gabrant realized then: he should have been grateful to Shiao Yi. Never should he have hated him.
It was far too late for him to understand everything now. What a shameful and unworthy parent he had been.
"Have you given up on everything? Do you really think Dominic would not feel sorrow, seeing you like this? Do you not understand why Dominic showed his anger? No matter how much he rejects you, you are still the only father he has."
Gabrant kept his gaze locked on Shiao Yi’s black eyes.
"Do you know why Dominic chose to become a knight? Why he kept chasing strength again and again? Because he is your son. Because he grew up watching your back. And surely, you must have felt pride in him."
Gabrant had no words to give back to Shiao Yi. He only clenched his fists tightly. Yes, that was what he had thought. That was what he had wanted to believe—that he was proud of his son.
"You loved him. You were proud of him. So why did you avoid him? Did you think Dominic wouldn’t be hurt when his own father turned away from him? Did you think he wouldn’t feel lonely? Did you think Jude and Eline would be enough? They are not his parents! What Dominic longed for all along, from the time he was little, was not them—it was you!"
Shiao Yi’s tone grew fierce. The words struck like blows, sharp and unrelenting, until he paused, silent, as if to steady his breath. In that moment, his presence changed completely.
He was no longer just an angry boy. He became something else—something that melted into the night itself. The darkness around him seemed to deepen, sink lower. And from within that shadow, his eyes glowed.
"He had both parents. So why did Dominic have to live like an abandoned child, so lonely? Why did you avoid him? Why did you leave him alone?"
The boy’s voice was low, cutting straight into the depths of Gabrant’s heart.
"What were you afraid of?"
At those words, memories surged up from the depths of Gabrant’s past. He had thought they were forgotten, sealed away forever. But now the pain he had refused to touch came back with vivid force.
It was the agony of being cast down from the height of happiness into a pit of despair. The despair and hatred that mocked the joy of gaining Princess Ashe, the woman he had admired and longed for, as his bride.
He had welcomed her as a joyful bride into his estate, guided her to a room prepared for her. Ashe, as lovely as a flower, had blushed with shyness and smiled at him. On their first night together, he believed she had been happy. He had taken in his beloved wife and drowned in the highest bliss and joy.
But with each passing day, her smiles faded. Slowly, sadness and anger colored her features. The pride born of a life of indulgence turned into selfishness and stubbornness.
He had noticed the tension between the maids Ashe had brought from the royal palace and the long-serving staff of the estate. His own servants never voiced complaints, but he knew they held resentment. The maids around Ashe, on the other hand, showed no effort to hide their arrogance, constantly finding fault with the way the estate managed things.
But to him, such clashes were natural—after all, the life of the palace and that of a noble household were worlds apart. He had assumed that, with time, both sides would adapt and find harmony.
Yet, with every ball, every banquet, every salon she attended, Ashe’s attitude only grew more hardened.
And still, Gabrant held on to hope. He believed that surely, one day, their hearts would connect. He was certain that on the day of their wedding, they had truly been united.
But that fragile hope was shattered into complete despair the night he forced his way into her bedchamber. His patience had run out, and his frustration boiled over. Ignoring the maids who tried to stop him, he shoved past them and entered.