Before I took the vows and entered the monastery, my name was Caden.From the time I was young, I often heard the same praise whispered around me: "This child is sharp beyond his years—clever, quick-witted, the finest of the three princes."I heard it so often that I came to believe it myself. At times, I even felt proud. But whenever I let that pride rise too high, Mom would bring me back to earth.She would look at me, her eyes soft but filled with something I couldn't quite name—pity, perhaps. And then, she would sigh and say, "What a pity you were born of my womb. If not, you might have risen above that foolish one. But fate favored him, not you."That "foolish one"—I knew well enough who she meant. I had heard her say it so many times in private, though never once in public.It puzzled me greatly as a child. Mom clearly disliked my eldest brother, Connor, more than anyone. Yet, whenever he came near, she would smile warmly and speak kindly. She would even flatter him, calling
Read more