The Big Man
An Always Friends, Always More Story
A Humanized Pony Fic By Duke Moon II
Inspired by “The Girls of My Life” by Wildcard25

Chapter 9 – House Blueblood

As soon as I stepped inside the house, my butler had informed me that my son had come home crying, locking himself in his room. My butler had assumed that little Albert had a terrible day at school, which I couldn't believe had happened. Albert was so confident that morning, and he promised me that he would make the Blueblood name proud. Yes, Canterlot Memorial Grade School can be compared to an untamed jungle where you have to assert yourself as the big man and never let anyone forget it. If one could not be the big man, then a loyal follower to the big man. Either one would have been preferable. My son promised me that he had everything under control.

When I opened the door to his room, I saw Albert in a tattered school uniform. He ran to me and bawled, pleading forgiveness for not keeping his promise to me. He hugged me as tight as he could, crying over my shoulder as he told me about his day. It would seem that the sons of many of my business rivals had formed a clique and had assumed their authority of the school yard and decided to disgrace my boy in front of the other students. My son went into the jungle with confidence and a smile… unarmed.

After Albert had stopped crying, I assured him that there was always tomorrow. That one day he would make the Blueblood name proud.

I also reminded him to never disappoint me again.

Edmund Blueblood
The Canterlot Families

Though Albert seemed calm and cool, he felt worried as he sat in a chair in front of Principal Celestia de la Huerta’s desk. He could tell that his aunt was contemplating something as she just sat there, staring at him with an even expression. Albert didn’t like this at all as he felt like Celestia was going to say something nasty to him, or worse. His aunt… no, the principal had caught him with his hands on a student. Albert then breathed in and out, trying to calm himself down as he tried to think of a way to escape punishment. He needed to be in the good graces of the principal and did not want to risk alienating his aunt.

With a sigh, Celestia finally spoke with disappointment, “Albert… what am I going to with you?”

“I fail to see what I did wrong, auntie,” responded Albert with a calm voice.

“You put your hands on a student,” Celestia pointed out. “Just be glad you didn’t do anything else or I would have expelled you.”

“Expel me for what?” asked Blueblood incredulously. “That wretch of a student was mocking me and so were those… those harpies he was with. He was provoking me!”

“After you provoked him and his friends, Albert!”

“Why are you taking their side, auntie!? I’m your nephew… family! Doesn’t my word count for something over those overrated shrills and their pet!?”

Celestia sat up from her desk instantly, startling Albert with a piercing glare. Albert was surprised at how furious the principal looked at him. He was unnerved and was at a loss for words. He then saw her hands were flat on her desk, stiffened. Albert kept silent, not wanting to anger Celestia and kept silent.

“That ‘pet’ you are referring to has been through enough,” Celestia sighed, keeping her glare on Albert. “I commend you for bringing what happened at lunchtime to my attention and I will be keeping an eye on him. As of now, Spike has followed the rules of this school. From what you showed me in that video, the only fault I can see is that he’s hard-headed and loyal to a fault.”

“But he was a gang member!” countered Albert.

“Was, Albert! Past tense! What I saw in that video was a boy that regrets what he did in the past. All we can do is make him feel welcome.”

“He’s a stain on this campus and should be removed!”

“That’s not your decision, Albert!”

“But my word-”

“I’ve already given Spike a chance to explain himself. He’ll by on my web show this weekend and he will have his say.”

“You can’t be serious! You’re actually giving him a platform!?”

“I am, Albert. You’re more than welcome to come and see the interview.”

“With all due respect, auntie… you’re making a huge mistake.”

“The only mistake I see is you trying to antagonize a student. If you’re not willing to give Spike the same courtesy I’m giving him, then the best thing you can do for yourself is to leave him alone.”

Albert was furious, but didn’t say anything else as he got up and headed for the door. He couldn’t believe that his aunt was siding with Spike and there was nothing he could say to change Celestia’s mind. He tensed up as he put his hand on the doorknob.

“Albert,” spoke Celestia softly. “I'm tired of this attitude you have towards my students. In fact… you have so much of your father in you that I’m afraid you might end up like him.”

“My father was a great man,” Albert said furiously.

“Your father’s in jail,” Celestia pointed out. “Your father did a lot of things… hurt a lot of people just to feed his own greed. And your mother...my God, it was terrible what happened to her. Had your uncle not come in, I would have taken you in like the son I never had.”

“The only fault my father had was that he wasn’t careful enough.”

“Albert… you’re family. But I’m warning you not to follow this path you’re on. If you do wrong in this school, I will not hesitate to punish you.”

Albert, angry and hurt, kept silent as he turned the doorknob and exited the office, slamming the door behind him.

Picking up the phone at her desk, Celestia dialed a number and waited. When she heard a voice at the other end, she spoke, “Alistair, it’s Celestia… yes, you can do something for me.”

Walking away from school grounds, Albert had tried to remain calm, lest the others had already noticed his foul mood. Celestia had told him to lay off the Hotties’ personal toy and he didn’t like it one bit. He would have thought that the video of Spike fighting a gang would be enough for his aunt to expel the freshman, wanting to stick it to those girls that took away the fame that he thought was rightfully his. Sure, those girls getting detention was something that brought a smile to his face, but he also wanted to hurt those girls by getting that freshman expelled. They cared about that nobody and would do anything to protect him. Those girls even wanted to start a campaign in order to get that boy a better standing at CHS. The thought of those girls grooming their toy for their own gain made him growl.

Up ahead at the school entrance, Albert saw a black limousine with the driver holding the door open. Albert wordlessly entered the vehicle as he sat down, his arms crossed as the driver closed the door. It was not long after he heard the engine turn on and the driver drove away from CHS. Albert sighed, relieved that the school day was over.

“Shall I drop you off at The Richelieu Club, Mr. Blueblood?” the driver asked civilly.

“Just take me home, Hoof,” Blueblood answered with a growl. “I believe they have something stronger than tea there.”

“As you wish, Mr. Blueblood,” responded Hoof.

Though the ride wasn’t a long ride, Albert was soon home at his uncle’s home. Stepping outside the limo, he took in the sight of the estate. The Blueblood Mansion, formerly the Sombra Estate, was a gothic style home situated in the middle of the Belmont Forest outside of Ponyville. It was modest in size, but very intimidating in its gloomy look, which didn’t help matters as the mansion was mostly grey. Contrasting with the color of the mansion itself was the stained glass windows that adorned most of the mansion, which was something Albert had remembered his uncle telling him about when he was restoring the mansion many years ago.

‘A small home for a frugal man,’ thought Albert as he gave the mansion an unimpressed scoff, walking towards the entrance.

After getting his homework done, Albert had adjourned to the Champions’ Room, which was something Albert’s uncle had designed for him some time when he arrived at the Blueblood Mansion many years ago. It was a combination of game room and bar that over the years had been updated to suit modern needs. The room was brightly lit and the windows were closed. There was a flat-screen television set placed over the fireplace that was currently on the financial news network, though Albert was barely paying any attention to it as he sat at the bar, taking a sip of his martini. There was also a pool table with six balls already in place and a poker table with a new deck of cards still in its box. On the walls, there were four glass cases, though only two of them were filled with trophies, pictures, and awards, all bearing Albert’s name. Aside from his own room, the Champions’ Room was where Albert spent most of his time in his more solitary moments and rarely let anyone in.

Holding the martini glass in his hand, Albert raised it in toast to a painted family portrait that was placed behind the bar. The picture was that of blonde couple and a baby with the man standing resolute with a stern expression on his face, wearing a tailored black suit and black tie; the long blonde-haired woman was on fanciful golden-cushioned chair, wearing a white dress with pearls around her neck, a victorious smirk on her face as she held an infant on her lap. His expression towards the picture was a brooding one, especially towards the male in the picture as he took one last gulp of his drink, placing the class on the counter.

With a frown, Albert got up from the bar and went to the closet, opening it up to reveal a batch of old board games that were still in mint condition. After a few seconds, he pulled out an old dartboard and a box of darts. Albert then pulled out an unmarked box, opened it and pulled a small poster. Albert scowled at it with disdain, gripping it tightly. The poster was that of the Harmony Hotties first school concert. Just looking at them just made his blood boil. Calming himself, Albert went to the wall, hung the dart board and nailed the poster to it with one of the darts. Going back to the bar, he pulled another liquor bottle from the cabinet, this time a bottle of whisky. Opening it up, he didn't bother pouring it in a glass as she took a small swig of it. With a hard gulp, Albert got into position, darts in hand.

With a hateful glare, Albert began to throw the darts. He growled as each time he hit the poster, failing to hit any of the Hotties. Albert started seeing red as he threw more darts, all missing the mark. He continued like this as the seconds went by, he could swear that the girls were laughing at him cruelly. Albert threw more darts, though the throws had become more erratic, even missing the poster entirely. Fed up, Albert grabbed the whisky bottle and was about to throw at the poster covered dartboard. He felt his hand grab his wrist, stopping the throw cold. Albert breathed heavily, calming himself down. He chided himself for losing control and gave the poster one last blaming glare before he turned his head to see who had stopped him.

What Albert beheld was a man who was a bit smaller than he was. Even so, the man seemed to have gotten his attention as she Albert did nothing but stare at him. The man had his black hair slicked back, revealing a widows peak. He also had a slightly groomed beard and mustache. The clothes the man had on were bit worn, a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, grey vest, black tie, grey pants and black shoes. Albert tried to look at this man with contempt, but found that he couldn't. He could feel the disappointment from the man and looked away.

"I wouldn't want you to waste a perfectly fine bottle of whisky, boy," the man said in a deep, weary voice as he grabbed the bottle from Albert's grasp.

Albert got the nerve to glare at the man and asked, "What do you want, uncle Alistair?"

"What I want is for you to not take your anger out on the liquor," Alistair responded as he looked at the bottle. "What I need is for you to come with me. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes and I picked out a great piece of steak. I'd say it's a better use of whisky than having smeared on the wall, don't you think?"

Albert continued to glare at Alistair, watching him leave the Champions room. He looked back at the dartboard and decided to he leave the room.

"And turn the television off!" Alistair shouted from the distance. "The bills have been murder these days!!"

Albert's frowned again as he grabbed the remote and turned the flat-screen off, stomping his away out of the Champions Room.

When he was younger, Albert had remembered a grand hall in his father's mansion that served as the dining room. On the walls were several works of priceless art that his father had purchased over years to show off to his guests. He also remembered a long wooden dining table where he sat next to his father and listened to how much he made the previous day and how much he would spend on the summer vacation he would share with the family. Albert had remembered dining on high class food prepared by the finest chefs in the world. Finely prepared meat fillets with a side of caviar and truffles were some of his favorites.

Ever since he had moved in with his uncle Alistair, he would dine in the dining room that was also the kitchen. He didn't want to share the same room with the middle aged butler/cook. To him it would be made worse when one of the maids flirted with butler/cook and talked like they were about to procreate right then and there. The small round table made him miss the wooden table even more, feeling that it was not up to standard.

Staring down at his plate, Albert looked sadly at his steak and potatoes slathered in steak sauce with a shot glass of whisky. On the side was a slice of Apple Pie, which made his face twist in disgust. In the past, Albert had avoided whatever his uncle Alistair was offering and used his allowance to go to high class restaurants or clubs. Though he was hungry, Albert was reluctant to eat his dinner.

"You know, the point of having steak is to eat it," Alistair pointed out as he took a bite of his dinner. "Daniels prepared it himself and wouldn't want his efforts wasted."

"If you want, sir, I would gladly take it off his hands," said Daniels the butler as he cleaned the counter. "We can save it until the young master feels like eating it later."

"Which means you will have an extra helping of dinner, Daniels," scoffed Alistair. "I swear, you spoil yourself too much with the food and the maids around here. It's a wonder why I even keep you around at all."

"I do my work well and I keep the house neat and tidy, sir," said Daniels. A grin slowly appeared on his face and added, "That and I think the maids would miss me if I left."

"Or follow you out the door!" laughed Alistair, banging the table with a fist. "I swear, I'm the master of this house and you have the maids wrapped around your finger!"

"It's more like they have me on a leash, sir," Daniels pointed out. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

Albert rolled his eyes up as he decided to cut his steak into pieces and began eating it. He just wanted to drown out his uncle and the butler's laughter and maybe get through dinner without incident.

Seeing Albert's discomfort, Alistair motioned for his butler to leave. He took his shot glass in hand and drank his whisky, feeling a rush as it went down his throat. Looking at his nephew in amusement, Alistair could tell that he was having trouble eating his steak, like it was going to poison him. He then handed Albert a shot glass, which his nephew took and drank immediately.

"There, now that wasn't so bad," chuckled Alistair.

"You two disgust me!" shouted Albert.

"It helps to be chummy with help, Bertie," said Alistair as he ate his final piece of steak. After wiping his mouth, he continued, "But I think the matters of my butler having fun with the maids of the home are not what ails you at moment."

Albert remained quiet, unsure if he should respond. In the years that he moved in with his uncle, he pretty much left to his own devices and didn't talk to him all that much. The man never really seemed to care what he did and liked it that way. It left him to do what he wanted without repercussions and if there was anything that went wrong, he could handle it himself. Alistair had caught him in a fit of rage and he wanted to be alone. Tonight would be the first time Alistair asked him what was wrong, much to his surprise.

"Listen, Bertie," Alistair began. "I know I haven't been there for you and I'm not much of a family man. Personally, business is my game and I never wanted to be tied down. But I insisted on taking you in years ago and I provided what I could for you. Sadly, Celestia reminded me that I need to be what my brother could never be for you."

It took every ounce of willpower Albert had to not blow up at his uncle. Like he told Celestia earlier, his father was a great man. He lived an extravagant lifestyle, his businesses made millions and he bought everything with a high price tag. Christmases at the mansion was something he always looked forward to because his father had always got him the greatest presents that were the envy of anybody, including the super rich kids. Albert had tried and tried to live up to his father's reputation and do the Blueblood name proud because the man was a success. To him, his father was ideal. He was a powerful businessman with money to spare. He showed off his wealth because he knew he could have more money. Nothing was off limits and Albert wanted to be just like him.

Albert just looked at Alistair with incredulity, as if asking how dare he speak of his father that way. To him, Alistair was a pauper compared to his father.

Alistair sighed as she picked up both his and his nephew's plates along with the forks. He went to sink and began washing the plates. He looked up and saw that his nephew looked at him strangely. He shook his head and continued to wash the plates.

"Leave it to Daniels to leave me with the plates," Alistair smirked. "If I know him, he'll be indisposed for an hour or two."

"So you let him lounge around the mansion while he should be tending to it?" Albert questioned.

"He tends to the house just fine, Bertie," Alistair responded. "Besides...I would never get between a man and a good lay. He's efficient enough to clean up his and the maid's messes."

Albert could only grimace in disgust, which earned a good laugh from Alistair.

"Anyway, Celestia gave me a call today," Alistair began as he put the dishes to dry. "She said you got into an altercation with a student."

"He provoked me," Albert stated.

"Only because you and your boys decided it would be wise to intimidate a freshman and his lady friends."

"I only wanted that stain gone, uncle Alistair! He doesn't deserve to be at Canterlot High! I wanted to do my auntie and the school a favor!"

"From where I stand, the only thing you wanted to do was take a toy away from six girls."

"So what if I was!? Those six harpies took what should have been mine!"

Alistair looked on Albert with curiosity. His nephew had stood up with his hands on the table and could swear he was about ready to cry.

Albert rubbed the bridge of his nose and ranted, "When I lost everything...when my father went to jail and my mother was...I swore that I would make the Blueblood name great again and I didn't care how I had to do it. I didn't care who I had to step on, I didn't care who I had to degrade and I certainly didn't care what lengths I had to go to destroy anyone who stood in my way! That's how my father would have wanted me to do! Family honor demanded it!

"I was on my way, uncle! I got in my aunt Celestia's good graces by being in charge of charity drives! I was the student body president! I had the highest marks in the school because I had a higher education than anyone of those peasants could only wish to buy! I even got the seniors to go to Hasbro-Land for their senior trip as a sophomore! I was the school's first debate champion and everyone...everyone looked to me for advice! I worked hard so I can establish a legacy so everyone will remember who I am! I am a Blueblood, the most powerful name on this planet!"

'Oh, here it comes,' Alistair thought as he rolled his eyes up.

"Then those girls had to come in!" Albert continued to rant. "Six freshmen students took it all away! An eager to please bookworm, a wannabe high class seamstress slut, a hick, an annoying party planner, a cowardly wallflower and an egocentric sports diva! They just came in and stole everything from me! All they had to do was sing and everyone drooled all over them! Now they were the biggest thing at Canterlot High and everything I did was forgotten! I had to work hard to get my reputation and all they had to do was sing!"

"Didn't you date one of them?" asked Alistair amusingly.

"Don't remind me," answered Albert, repulsed. "I only dated her so I can get her to betray her friends and maybe, just maybe, they would destroy each other. I even took her to my bed! She should feel grateful that I took her virginity! But no! She had to choose her friends over me! Me! And now those harpies are stronger than ever!"

Albert was practically seething, his hair now unkempt as his eyes were wide in rage. He shook his head, trying to quell his frustration.

"And now...now those harpies want to make that toy of theirs into their own puppet," Albert growled. "It's bad enough that they have the school under their thumb. Now they want that little boy to be their big man on campus? The same boy who dared stand up to me? I hate them, uncle! I hate them all so much!!"

Alistair could only look at Albert with a mixture of pity and disappointment. From what he could see, his nephew had blamed every bit of his problems on six high school girls but never bothered to see why his popularity went down. Alistair heard every word of Albert's rant and to him, it just sounded like a five year old crying for his lost toys. Alistair, from the time Albert came to his door, was pretty hands off and assumed his nephew could handle himself, but judging from his nephew's behavior, he knew what he had in front of him was a spoiled child. Alistair wanted to laugh as well because it also amazed him that Albert could actually seduce a woman to his bed. Still, he kept a stoic expression on his face as he finished washing the dishes. Drying his hands, Alistair approached his already fragile nephew.

"Dear God, what did Edmund do to you?" asked Alistair rhetorically.

Albert looked up and gave Alistair a glare.

"I never saw myself as a good father, Bertie," started Alistair with sigh. "Never saw the reason to, given that my whole life was work. That and I can be a little rough around the edges and never claimed to be a ladies man. Never saw the point of it, anyway. Still, despite my aversion to having a family of my own, I think that, in comparison, I could have been a better parent than your father ever was to you. I couldn't guarantee a better result for you, but-

"How dare you!?" screamed Albert, cutting off his uncle. "My father was grooming me to take over the Blueblood empire! He sent me to the most expensive schools in the country! He even gave me a tour of each of his businesses that I could have taken over one day! He had faith in me!"

"Faith, Bertie?" scoffed Alistair. "Whenever I asked him about you, he always sounded disappointed."

Albert's eyes widened in shock. He panicked, shook his head and grabbed his uncle's shoulders and screamed, "You lie!"

"Personal space, Bertie," growled Alistair as he shoved Albert to the ground. "And don't ever call me a liar again because I will throw you out on your ass if you do."

Albert glared defiantly, but remained silent.

"Though I wasn't as rich as your father, we ran in the same social circles," Alistair began. "Whenever we would run into each other, he would brag about how much he saved my father's businesses from financial ruin and how I was stuck with just an investment firm. In fact, those businesses were so successful that he could afford any excess he wanted. I was big about it, though, congratulating him on his success.

"I got the nerve to ask him about you one day, Bertie. His face...your father's face just scrunched. I asked what was wrong and he just said 'what wasn't wrong with that boy'. He told me that you weren't living up to the Blueblood name, that you cried on your first day of grade school because bullies picked on you. That your grades were average at best and that you weren't invited to any social gatherings that your status demanded. It was the same story as the years went by. You were a weakling to him, Bertie. He wondered why he even rewarded you if you weren't doing your part."

"I...was doing...doing my best," Albert whined, his voice breaking.

"Your father put a lot of weight on your shoulders, Bertie," Alistair continued. "He put too much pressure on you because he wanted you to be just like him. Ruthless, powerful and above all else, take what you want because you and you alone deserve it. That's what he believed the Blueblood name stood for and you weren't living up to it. All you did was cry, he said. All you did was whine about your new car, he said. And you what else he said about you, Bertie? That he wishes that you were a stillborn."

Albert remained quiet, staring into his uncle's eyes. He didn't want to believe anything Alistair was saying to him. He told himself his father was proud of him and will even be more proud once he regains his empire for him.

"Harsh words, Bertie," said Alistair as he folded his arms. "I didn't want to believe them but looking at you now, he didn't seem too far off. But then again, it takes a disgrace to know a disgrace."

Albert stood up and glared hatefully at Alistair, tears forming.

"He wanted too much, Bertie," Alistair continued. "Even when my father willed his companies to his general managers, leaving him with his trading company, he still wanted more. It was his excess, something I knew far too well growing up. Cars, women, money and power. He felt that every one of these things should be available to him. He was so blinded by his greed and the need for a proper heir that he didn't see his enemies coming. Now he's in jail for his crimes and your mother...shot dead by an ex-employee she fired for one minor mistake.

"So that just leaves you, nephew. Your father thought you a disgrace, even though you gave him your undying admiration. You thought him a great man, he thought you weakling with no hope. He never even writes to you from prison. Your mother is dead. Where does that leave you, Bertie? Who are you?"

"I am a Blueblood," responded Albert.

"Are you a disgrace?" asked Alistair firmly.

"No."

"Was your father wrong?"

"Yes!"

"About what, Bertie!? What was he wrong about!?"

"I am not a disgrace!"

"Who are you then!?"

"I am Albert Blueblood!"

"Are you like your father!?"

"No!"

"Will you be better than your father!?"

"Yes!"

Alistair could tell that Albert was trying to put on a strong front. Though from what he could see, his nephew looked like a frightened child trying to be a man. Alistair closed eyes, trying to contemplate on what Albert should do next. This all stems from Edmund's grooming and the pressures of living up to the name Blueblood. His brother was groomed to take over the business and he tried to instill a stronger mentality towards his son with disastrous results. It didn't help that Albert was thrown to the high society wolves at an early age, unprepared. Living here in Ponyville among the so-called common folk didn't do much to humble him and he tried to compensate. He gained a place on top of the food chain at CHS but lost it to six girls. Now Albert feels threatened that he may lose his legacy to "puppet". All these things Alistair considered to be in front of his nephew's mind.

Alistair brightened as he placed a hand on Albert's shoulder, getting his nephew's attention.

"There's something you need to do before you can get past this," said Alistair in a calmer tone. "It's in the Champion's room. Get it and I'll meet you in the yard."

Albert nodded grimly as he headed out of the kitchen.

Not much time had passed as Alistair placed some logs a few feet from the mansion. Before that, he brought in two lawn chairs and a bag of marshmallows and wooden sticks. Satisfied that he had set up enough logs, Alistair wiped sweat from his brow, grabbed his bag of marshmallows and sat down. He didn't have to wait long as he heard footsteps coming from behind. It was Albert with the portrait of his parents in hand. He sat down on the lawn chair, gripping the frame tightly. Alistair could tell that Albert had a determined look on his and smiled. He turned his towards the logs and leaned back on his chair.

"You know what you need to do, boy," Alistair said, grabbing a wooden stick and pointing to the logs. "It's the only memory that still dogs you. Best you move on from it."

Albert nodded as he sat up. He placed the frame on the logs. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked to the side, noticing that his uncle got his attention with his stick. Before Albert could speak, Alistair threw him a golden zippo lighter with the name Blueblood engraved. After igniting it, he stared at the flame for a few seconds before approaching the logs. It took a little while for the flames to get going, but eventually, the rest of the logs were engulfed in fire. The frame and the picture soon caught fire and a pillar of smoke filled the late afternoon sky. Albert could only stare at the burning portrait with seemingly no expression, fascinated as he saw his parents' faces disappear. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Nothing like a warm fire, eh Bertie," laughed Alistair as he stuck a marshmallow on a stick. "Sorry I didn't bring graham crackers or chocolate. I'll make sure Daniels gets some for next time."

Albert remained silent, still fascinated by the burning picture.

"You did take your sweet time in there, Bertie," Alistair noted, turning his head towards Albert. "Were you having second thoughts in there?"

"I was writing a letter to my father," Albert responded simply.

"That's interesting," said Alistair, turning his attention to the fire. "Anything I should know or is it between you and Edmund?"

"Just letting him know that I'm doing well," Albert said calmly, never taking his eyes of the fire. "In fact...more than well. I may not live in a big, fancy mansion anymore, but it's better than prison. I also let him know that he doesn't need to worry about me being a weakling anymore, that I don't need the guidance of someone who just wanted a son to be like him. Why would I be like him? Why would I be like someone who made the mistakes that landed him in prison? I let him know how much of a disgrace he was to the Blueblood name. I let him know that I won't be like him and I hope he rots slowly in that prison. I have my own way and I will restore my family's name."

"Bold words, nephew," Alistair complimented Albert. "You have all the freedom in the world. Just focus and maybe, just maybe, you'll be the greatest Blueblood this world has ever seen."

Albert nodded, leaning back as he saw the smoke continue to rise.

Author's Note

It lives! This fic lives again!

Anyway, props to Wildcard25, F14M3RZ and AlphaSteel for pre-reading, editing and suggestions. This chapter is actually a bit on the short side in comparison to what I've been writing lately.

One big reason I hadn't released this chapter is because I wasn't sure I could write a villain chapter for this story. I hope its up to standards.

Until next time.