No Empathy

Lord Magnus is a man who cares only and only about himself. This was a fact that Tuesday had long known as he was called by his master as the second day of the week instead of his name.

Magnus never bothered to learn anyone's name, he sees it as unnecessary and name almost all his servant by objects or days of the weeks. Sometimes Tuesday wondered how many Tuesdays had served him and what number he was on the line.

"The woman that you had saved last time, I thought you wanted to know more about the result," Tuesday explained again and looked at his master's face. He wondered if it was the truth that he had forgotten about the slums and the phantom thief but it didn't seem like a lie.

"Woman," recalling the strawberry hair Magnus's eyes widened slightly in amusement. The corners of his lips raised higher, "Oh right the cat."

Indeed Magnus had been sleeping with the sound of someone's cry but he brushed it off as one of those cries he had listened from the victims he had killed. He had learned to get used to it and now he couldn't discern whether it was his imagination or his sharp keen ears that could even hear the sound of human's hear beats, supernaturals included.

Although this cry had bothered him longer than the others did, his cold heart wasn't easily swayed and after just two days he had completely ignored the sobs in an instant.

He also remembered Elle's face and although she was indeed a face that was beautiful enough to be etched on his mind, his disinterest had led him to forget that he was once interested in the reason for her tears.

Now that he recalled about it again, he could feel her body weigh on his arms and the intrigued he thought was gone like always resurfaced again.

"Well it wouldn't hurt to know," Magnus walked over to the hanger and pulled the bathrobe over his body. Tying the fluffy fabric around his waist his red lips seemed to be full of excitement for the first time in a very long while. "I'd like to know the reason for someone's tears to be so delicate."

Tuesday tilted his head and followed his master behind like a cat, "Isn't it because she had lost someone she loved in the fire?"

"I suppose," Magnus responded. It never really bothered him if someone was to cry but something about the tears that glide across the contour of her face tug something in him. Even when tears appeared when someone was on verge of death, it didn't felt so nagging as the tears Elle had shed showed to him.

Regardless if someone died or if they're sad he doesn't care… but he was bored most of the time especially with the repeating sun and move appearance every morning and night, heck it would be so fun if the sun appears at night and the moon in the morning. "Doesn't seem like I have anything fun to do today, let's go to the dungeon."

That afternoon, the street outside was bustling.

Granted, it was the first time in a while since Elle stepped out from her dark room where she had hid herself in to ease the pain of losing her family. She felt as if she had forgotten the touch of the sunlight, the noisy street and the laughter of the people somewhere bring comfort to her stinging heart.

Count Arthur watched her from the sides, appearing to be thinking of something deep. He then said, "Next time, you should visit the town and buy yourself new dresses and accessories."

"I'm not sure if that's necessary," drawled Elle. Now that she thinks about it, what will become of her future? All that she had thought was how to stay with her family, but now that her house in the slum is gone, should she stay in the Vernon's household?

Count Arthur is indeed her father and it wasn't as if she comes in mind for their bad interest, however she still feel guilty to impose on him, especially when Lady Gladys and Carol despise her so much.

He had also lost his family and she didn't want her to be the cause of him to lose it again.

Count Arthur seems to be brimming with happiness as he said, "Of course it is, though it would be a difficult task for you to choose your own dress by yourself. I will ask Gladys and Carol to help you out. Perhaps they can use this chance to know you better."

Elle looked at the man and curved her eyes. It seemed he thinks that "time" and "words" will start a bond between her and her step mother, but since the moment Elle stepped inside the manor, she knew Lady Gladys would never accept her unless she is dead.

"Oh what a gorgeous church," Elle then remarked while looking at the window.

Count Arthur stared at the building a little coldly but when their eyes met, he had pulled up his smile, "Perhaps we should visit the church soon, we might know more about the saintess and the stigmata."

"Sure," Elle didn't see a point to refuse or to argue what she experienced this morning was a stigmata. She had always been curious of the church and see it as no harm to pay a little visit. "Maybe after the funeral?" She inquired.

"As the saintess's will," responded Count Arthur, widening his smile as he had promised to never refuse her request.

Not long after the carriage belonging to the Vernon stopped at a certain field. It was quite far from the town, as though the place was build in mind so it wouldn't be too close to the civilians. The road greeting to the dungeon was covered with cobblestone, making the ride to be more bumpy than before.

By the time the carriage had stopped moving, Count Arthur stepped out first before helping her to get down.

Elle looked at the wide building in front of her. It appears bigger than a church, almost more similar to a bastille, like a small fortress.

The guards strictly stare at her, more so to her striking pink hair and wondered if she was really a human with her odd yet enchanting features. Upon seeing Count Arthur, their stance changed and appeared stiffer than before.

"Blessing be to you Count Vernon!" Said the taller guard. "We are glad to meet you in person."

"Be at ease," Count Vernon showed a friendly smile, "I came here for an interrogation."

"Oh, today's interrogation," the same man said before opening the door for them to enter.

Elise heard the man sighed as he pushed the door inside and listened him murmuring, "They are off to see that criminal again, how many time is this now? It's not as if interrogating him will make him speak."

"Really, I agree. That man had met a torturer and still refuse to claim he is guilty of the charged sins, what will talking do to help?" Replied the other soldier before closing the door, making Elle to frown as she felt her chest squeezing in discomfort.

Meanwhile in front of the fortress, Magnus stepped down with a grin. His polished black shoes tapped on the stone eerily as if he was ready to come and ruin everyone's day and night.