I am Henry Winterheart, the patriarch of the Winterheart Estate. The eldest of three siblings, I carry the weight of the family name and the legacy that comes with it. Every decision, every action within these walls, reflects the authority and responsibility I bear.
Growing up, I tried to be the perfect son. I worked hard, obeyed, and strived for excellence in everything I did. But no matter how much I achieved, no matter how high I climbed, my parents never gave me their love. Every accomplishment, every sacrifice, went unnoticed, lost in the cold silence of their indifference.
I was ready to give up, weighed down by years of emptiness, until I stumbled upon a strange girl in my back garden.
She was cute, yet undeniably odd. Kneeling in the grass, she whispered to the flowers as if they were old friends. I thought about slipping away quietly, but fate wasn't on my side. Her eyes lifted, and before I could turn, she had already caught me.
"HELLO!!" she yelled, sprinting toward me. "Hello! Can you be my friend? Nobody wants to be my friend… please, please, PLEASE!"
"Amm… sure," I said, edging backwards, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
But I couldn't go… something was pulling me toward her.
After a while, I found myself looking forward to her being around. The more we talked, the lighter my heart felt, and the more I fell in love with her.
Her beautiful black hair framed her face perfectly, and her striking blue eyes seemed to hold entire worlds within them.
One day, my father passed away, taken by the slow, inevitable grip of old age. With his death, the mantle of the Winterheart Estate fell to me, I became the patriarch, the one who would carry the family name and all its burdens.
But now I have my cute wife and due to her unwavering support, I go into each battle with confidence. We brought honor, fame, and vast fortune to the Winterheart name.
A few years later, our greatest joy arrived: the birth of our first son.
I named him Nasa, after an ancient mythological god. Nasa, the one who is kind, the one who lives among the stars. A name that carries hope, light, and the promise of greatness.
But my wife wanted to name him Star Flower Boy. I love her dearly, but… she has a terrible track record when it comes to naming things.
Alongside my son, a girl named Ivy was also born.
She was the child of my childhood friend, the one who fought by my side, and the one to whom I had once promised our children would one day be married. A promise I now recognize as my greatest mistake.
My son fell head over heels for a girl who never loved him back. He did everything for her, covering his golden eyes because they scared her, even breaking his arm just to bring her a flower she liked. Yet she never once thanked him.
His obsession caused chaos, stirred trouble, and brought shame. And though I tried so hard not to be like my parents, to be better than the cold indifference I grew up with… in the end, I became exactly what I hated.
I ignored him, doing everything I could to avoid seeing him. But the day I heard he was hurt, I couldn't stop myself, I rushed to his side.
I sat beside his bed every night, watching over him. And with each hour that passed, the weight of disappointment in myself grew heavier. I had become the very thing I once despised, the worst kind of father.
I hadn't even noticed how pale and thin he'd become.
A month ago, a letter arrived, it said my son had finally woken from his long slumber. I wrote back at once and set out for home, the journey taking another full month.
In my reply, I invited him to the upcoming family dinner.
And so, there I was, seated at the head of the table.
To my right sat the Whitmore family, my friend, his wife, and their one and only daughter.
To my left, my own family: my wife, my middle child, and my youngest.
But my eldest… he still hadn't arrived.
Then, at last, the doors opened.
"Uh… hello, everyone. Looks like I'm a bit late," he said, stepping into the room.
He'd grown, so much so that for a moment, I barely recognized him. His hair was shorter now, revealing that golden eye he'd always kept hidden. He appeared stronger too, his physique firmer, his presence cutting.
What most caught me off guard, however, wasn't how he appeared. It was the fact that he refused to sit with Ivy.
That was a few weeks ago. Recently, my son asked to use the estate's storage room. I was suspicious of his intentions, so I gave him a condition, he could use it only after cleaning the entire place by himself.
To my surprise, he agreed without hesitation.
After three hours, I went to check the storage room, and I couldn't help but smile.
Not because it was spotless, but because my son had finally chosen the right path. For the first time in a long while, I saw him moving forward, shaping his own destiny.
My son was finally living up to his name—Nasa, god of the stars. The one who is kind, the one who lives among the stars and the son of the dragon Overgod.