Rafeal Rankin

Inheritance

The waning warmth of decades of prosperity soothed me in my bed as snowy winds howled outside our family estate. My father, the prime minister, had reclined beside me and was showing me an ornamental cavalry saber, an heirloom passed down from generations before. I marveled as I beheld the extraordinary sight before me, something more incredible than the antique weapon. My father rarely had time to leave his desk to visit his son; the demands of running a country was a greater responsibility than I thought I would ever be. He was unsure of himself in this fragile moment; a side of him I almost never saw.