Chapter 10: Mama's Boy

Kieran stood by his mother's side with heavy animosity inside his dimmed green eyes. He grits his teeth underneath his thinned lips, impatient as his penetrating gaze pierces through the nearest servant from the distance.

How unwelcoming.

For he presumed their insignificance in his life, his veins pulsated in dissatisfaction, unsettled by the heavy silence around them.

Grown-ups understood fair well that time had no less value than gold.

So what were they slackening for?

The mummed servants shared the grave atmosphere that was commencing to choke them to suffocation. They were in complete distraught by his burying stares as if his verdict alone would be the prior law to wherever it deems fit.

And if they were to determine their fate as his convicts, they would rather be at bay in the darkest caves to the top mountains, starving and left parched than standing someplace the tyrant child's vision could advance.

"You heard my mother. Leave," said Kieran.

With every word sounding too life-threatening and depicting his apparent portents, the sight of his winded brows paired with his calm and distant countenance made the flustered servant in front of him swallow her voice and soul.

"Right away."

The trusted servant immediately excused herself, carrying his words inside her anxious and burdened heart. Yet, somehow, she could feel her lungs loosening their pressure.

She heaves a deep sigh of relief upon exiting through the stairs—no more at risk at his pair of menacing emerald globes.

Witnessing the not-so-peculiar scenery had transpired earlier than usual, Butler Yang soughs inside his head, surely the young maid was now at peace than troubled over her wavering housekeeping position.

His aged gloved hand reaches out to his front, leaning his body slightly over as he invites the upset child over to his morning bath.

The boy evidently values time and had been surely despising the idea of servants standing in one place with the heiress.

His ears suddenly twitch when he hears the faint murmurs behind him, causing the disappointed butler to look back, shushing the two disrespectful young maidens who remained at his side to assist the young boy as the other two had gone to prepare the heiress's bath while one was entrusted to pass the heiress's order to the head chef, expected it to reach the kitchen in short notice.

No matter how much the worried butler suppressed it. The thinness of his voice was indeed noticeable.

Undoubtedly he was aging, and it won't be long for the headmaster to let him retire from his honorable position.

"Shall we, young master?"

Time is sprinting, and the candles are melting, but he wishes nothing but time to grant his heart's pleas.

He had hoped to remain under this fine young lad's growing wings.

His devotion might as well be worth dedicated to a genius born in this era before he dies of old age. It will surely bring fortune and marvelous stories to the next lineage of his family.

"One moment."

Kieran grasps the tip of his mother's pale fingers, tugging it slow between his gentle touch whilst the corners of his lips bend into a disdainful frown, "I'll be going now, mother."

Ivie heard him, and she leaned down, watching how he placed his little palms on both sides of her cheek, cupping her face, and started to shower her with feather-light pecks of kisses.

She shuts her eyes, a faint chuckle escaping her throat and lips, "You know one is enough."

Kieran's moist lips trail up to her eyelids, keeping his ears closed for consideration.

Her heart was already softening for him from what he's doing. They would still meet in the dining area later on, but he's acting like they weren't going to see each other for a year, and why-oh-why does he sound so down-hearted?

"More is better than one," muttered the young boy between the breaths of his lips.

Her soft skin was warm against his cold lips, giving him a sudden sense of longing.

He always detested this aching sensation in his chest.

He wanted to stay with her for a bit longer.

He tiptoes and presses his lips gently one last time against his mother's forehead, despite knowing these marks would eventually wither away once she washes up.

His frown deepened. For now, this should do.

Ivie's fingers delicately stroke and straighten her child's knitted brows. She goggles down at him, wraps her arms around him, and kissed the tip of his scrunched nose, "Be good and behave well, sweetheart."

She ruffles his softest hair upon seeing him attentively nodding his head in agreement with the ends of his bangs dusting side to side against his forehead.

That's my boy.

Kieran finally faces his butler in one swift turn, hiding his reddened ears, and Ivie bid them her sweetest goodbye as she watched their backs shrink and disappear through the elevator doors until they were nowhere in sight.

She then resumes marching towards the end of the hallway to start preparing herself for the day.

_______________

The moment Ivie descends from the stairs, fresh and suitably dressed for their mother and son date later, the servants bowed their heads and shoulders in respect for her presence while hiding the astonishment swarming inside their eyes as they applaud her beauty inside their heads, which words aren't enough to define and justice how demure she looks.

She was far from the feisty and intimidating young miss they had served, and today she was different than any other usual mornings they had witnessed.

Her face was bare, free from her disguised colourette. Her milky skin was exposed out of her accustomed long-sleeved suits, and they glowed as the lighting of the bright room and the large stained glass window flatters her temperament more.

Her loveliness truly fits the definition of the word 'breathtaking'.

A divinity figure has surely descended from the heavens.

The sleeves of her white silk polo were rolled perfectly to her elbow, and she had the front edge of the cloth slightly tucked in her squared black jeans, where the ends flatter loosely around her ankle in every step she took.

They were in full awe as they watched her take her last step from the bottom of the staircase.

She had a perfect motherly image with a dew drop of youth.

It was a refreshing sight to see.