~ Prologue ~

(Robin's P.O.V)

"Father! I have bad news!" A 16 year old boy stumbled into the large dining hall, his face flushed from running. He made his way over to the huge man who sat at the head of the table, a goblet of red wine in his chubby hands.

"And what might that be, my dear son?" He jeered; taking a sip (well it was more like a gulp) from the glass. The boy leant away, wrinkling his nose. His father was drunk, and smelt heavily of wine. It made him sick. Taking a deep breath, he told his father the news that he knew he would not like.

"We," He gestured to the three boys behind him, "Were over by the Merryweather Manor. We had heard of a commotion going on over there and decided to check it out." He shuffled his feet nervously, and fiddled with the feathers that hung from around his neck. "We overheard a conversation. Between Sir Benjamin and a man I believe to be called Digweed. They were talking about Sir Benjamin's brother." The boy looked at his father for a signal to carry on. But the large man had stopped drinking, and was staring at his son with stony eyes.

"Carry on Robin," He ordered, his hand clenched so tightly round the goblet that the delicate glass shattered, spilling wine all over his arm. He didn't seem to notice. A young servant scurried over, biting her lip with fear. She quickly cleared up the glass and dabbed gently at the wine with a cloth. The older man had clearly lost all sense of fun and humour.

Robin hesitated before continuing. "He is dead. And he has left behind a daughter; she is to come to the Merryweather manor to live." The hall which was once full of lively chatter and the clunks of cutlery hitting a plate, suddenly went silent. "She shall arrive in two days." He finished, and took a step back, realising that his father was not happy. His face had reddened and screwed up in anger, and he slammed his fist down onto the table.

"What?" He boomed, standing up so forcefully that his chair rocked and then fell to the ground with a crash. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He grabbed Robin by the collar and glared down at him. "Why?" He spat.

"F-father we only just got back- and that… that demon dog chased us away before we could hear anything else." Robin stammered, struggling against his father's tight grip. He knew what was coming next. A pretty blonde woman in a gorgeous grey dress stepped towards the man, and placed a smooth hand on his shoulder.

"Do calm down, Coeur, you're boy was right to come tell you!" She purred, but a terrified look was plastered across her face. Instead of relaxing, Coeur De Noir let go of Robin to slap her hand away. She looked hurt for a moment, but then sighed and left the room. Fathers got a new woman. Robin thought, watching her leave. It was unusual for one of his 'friends' to not be able to calm him down. He knew he was in for it now.

Closing his eyes, Robin braced himself for a beating. He knew exactly what would happen. He would be hurt, sometimes he was knocked unconscious. But he would always wake up in his bedroom, bandaged up with his favourite foods on his bedside table. Then his father would act like they were best of friends. Oh how he hated Coeur. But he still would do anything to earn his father's respect. One day he would impress him. One day his father would come to him for advice, or ask him to do a special job. But for now he was the poor little son of Sir Coeur De Noir, the failure to the clan. Oh well. He was used to it.

A/N: Hi! I hope you like the start of my story! Please review with how I can improve, and things I did well, please! Oh and I am new to this website… so what is beta reader? Thank you! :D