If your mother is the queen of a nation of warrior women, and you are a small, male ‘mistake’, you better keep your nose clean and be diligent in your studies. Pieter did both these things.
He understood he must have a father, as must his muscular sisters, but only Mother mattered.
When he was seven, a hulking man in fishscale armour came to the palace demanding ‘his’ son.
Mother said no, and the enraged knight was holding a broadsword to her breast when Pieter was brought to the throne.
He killed the knight with his tiny dagger.