The Omega Knight's Secret Baby Daddy is A PRINCE?! Chapter 89: Ten Years Ago

Aamon’s gaze moved over the four n. Slowly, without any rush, he reached for the hilt at his waist.

The sound of steel sliding free from the scabbard cut sharply through the silence.

All four knights dropped to their knees imdiately.

"Captain Aamon!"

"Please!"

"We didn’t an—"

Aamon didn’t even glance at them.

His sword rested loosely at his side as his attention shifted past them.

To Silas.

Silas froze under that look.

"You," Aamon said.

Silas stiffened.

"Yes, Captain."

Aamon lifted the tip of his sword slightly, gesturing toward the four kneeling nobles.

"Stop being a coward."

Silas blinked.

Aamon’s voice remained calm.

"You heard everything they said."

Silas swallowed.

"Yes, Captain."

"And you’re stronger than them."

Silas hesitated.

Aamon tilted his head slightly.

"I know you are. I know the knight who trained you."

Silas glanced toward Ezra.

For a brief mont their eyes t.

Ezra didn’t speak.

He simply watched.

’You can do it.’

Silas looked away quickly, drawing in a shaky breath.

Then he stood.

The four nobles stared at him in disbelief.

"Silas," Torren said nervously. "Now wait—"

Silas moved.

The first punch landed squarely across Torren’s jaw.

Torren dropped before he could finish his sentence.

Caelan tried to stand.

Silas kicked his legs out from under him.

Jareth raised his hands in panic.

Silas drove his elbow straight into his stomach.

Wulfric barely managed two steps before Silas grabbed him by the collar and slamd him hard into the dirt.

It ended quickly.

Much quicker than the four had expected.

Silas stood there for a mont, breathing hard.

Aamon watched without reacting.

"Good," he said simply.

Silas turned toward him imdiately.

"Yes, Captain."

"Now drag them back to camp."

Silas blinked.

"Captain?"

Aamon nodded toward the groaning knights on the ground.

"Take them to Guy Man. He may be an arrogant dunce, but that boy is a boy scout."

Silas straightened.

"Yes, Captain."

"And tell him exactly what these four have done."

Silas grabbed Torren by the back of his armor and began dragging him across the ground.

Then Aamon spoke again.

"Oh, and Silas."

Silas paused.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Let the ones already getting whipped know their punishnt has been increased."

Silas waited.

"From eleven lashes," Aamon said calmly, "to twenty one."

The four nobles imdiately began shouting.

"No!"

"Captain, please!"

"That’s too much!"

Their voices cracked with panic, the earlier arrogance completely gone.

Aamon didn’t even look at them.

Ezra watched quietly, arms loosely at his sides. He didn’t need Aamon to explain the punishnt further.

The four already understood.

Twenty-one lashes.

Publicly.

And worse, they would share that punishnt with the n already waiting for their whipping.

Their pride would be shredded long before the whip ever touched their backs.

"These four will be whipped with them," Aamon continued calmly. "And they are responsible for the increase."

Silas nodded imdiately.

"Yes, Captain Aamon."

His voice was steadier now.

Silas grabbed Torren again and began dragging him through the leaves. The other three stumbled along behind him, still pleading, still begging.

"Captain, please!"

"It wasn’t like that!"

"We were just angry!"

Their voices followed Silas as he hauled them toward the camp, desperation growing with every step.

But neither Ezra nor Aamon moved to stop them.

Soon the shouting faded between the trees.

Then it disappeared entirely.

The forest fell quiet again.

Only the soft rustle of leaves and the distant wind remained.

Ezra exhaled slowly.

’Good. That was getting annoying.’

Aamon stood still for a mont longer before finally lowering his sword.

The blade slid back into its scabbard with a quiet sound.

Then he sighed.

Not loudly.

Just enough to carry weight.

Ezra glanced at him.

Aamon turned his head.

His eyes settled on Ezra.

"I’m disappointed in you."

Ezra raised a brow slightly.

"In ?"

Aamon looked at him with clear disapproval.

"Yes. In you."

Ezra stared at him for a mont.

’Of course it cos back to .’

He crossed his arms loosely.

"And what exactly did I do this ti?"

Aamon didn’t hesitate.

"You used to command n with a single glare," he said. "Your na alone used to put fear into half the knights in this kingdom."

Ezra said nothing.

"And now?" Aamon continued, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You leave for five years and return to find a group of newly minted knights who don’t even respect you enough to keep their mouths shut."

Ezra scoffed quietly.

"How is that my fault?"

"Knights don’t take vacations," Aamon replied.

His gaze hardened.

"And you certainly never would have."

Ezra looked away.

"So I want to know..." Aamon continued.

Ezra sighed under his breath.

’Here it cos.’

’He’s going to ask why I actually left.’

He rubbed the back of his neck, already preparing an excuse.

But Aamon finished his sentence with sothing entirely different.

"When will you let et my grandson?"

Ezra froze.

He actually froze.

His head slowly turned back toward Aamon.

"What?"

Aamon’s expression didn’t change.

"That little kid you brought with you," he said casually. "When am I going to et him?"

Irritation rose instantly.

Ezra ran a hand through his hair.

"First of all," he said sharply, "he’s not my son."

Aamon stared at him.

Then a slow, amused smile spread across his face.

Ezra’s eyes twitched.

"And second of all," Ezra continued, pointing at him, "you are not my father."

"So you’ve said."

"I’m serious," Ezra muttered. "I keep telling you this."

"Uh huh."

Ezra sighed and drew in a slow breath.

Aamon had always been like this. Slipping into the role of a father whether Ezra allowed it or not.

No matter how many tis Ezra pushed him away or reminded him that they were simply captain and knight, the old man never seed to care.

’Stubborn old man.’

"Let’s go, Captain," Ezra said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We’re in the middle of a mission."

Aamon chuckled softly.

"You just want to check on that kid, Silas, don’t you?"

Ezra scoffed.

"No. I don’t really care."

"You do."

Aamon said it with the kind of certainty that made Ezra’s eye twitch.

"Because he reminds you of yourself," Aamon continued. "Him, and anyone like him."

Ezra’s jaw tightened.

"Don’t remind ."

Aamon’s smile grew slightly.

"Oh, I rember very clearly."

Ezra narrowed his eyes.

"I rember a very specific mont—"

"Don’t you dare."

Aamon ignored him.

"Ten years ago..."