The Right Intention, The Wrong Methodology.

Sylvester cussed inwardly in his head, but on the surface, he still appeared calm and tranquil. If he appeared apprehensive or flustered even for a brief moment, it would cause Dennis to be even more suspicious. "What ever are your trying to imply, brother?" Sylvester inquired, while beaming at the older man. "I was within the boundaries of this manor all day, was I not?" Dennis smirked lightly, before stepping into Sylvester's room. "It has been a while since we had a conversation, hasn't it? So hope you shall Pardon my intrusion?" Dennis said as he looked around his brother's room, before seating himself on the bed. He noticed the black book on the bed, and the item attracted his stare for a brief period, before he completely lost interest in it. "Your discourteous nature has already permitted you to gain entance." Sylvester quipped, as he beamed at his brother with his hands behind his back. "You have surely developed quite the sense of humor, I see." Dennis told him, before Patting the bed with his hand. "Do you not wish to seat?" He inquired, a slight smile on his face. "I would rather stand, thank you for the invitation." Sylvester replied harshly, as he proceeded to fold his hand. "I believe I have given you a befitting reply, Dennis." Sylvester said, as a frown came to his feautures. "Now, do make haste to Leave; you must have been exhausted from working in the office all day." He persuaded. Fortunately for him, he had enough time to hide those clothes in the cupboard, it would have been disastrous if Dennis was oppportuned to discover them lying around his room. And as to why Sylvester has told such an expensive lie- the reason was quite simple; Dennis barely stepped out Of the office nor did he interact much with anyone else, so Sylvester was of the impression that he could dwindle about to see his sister within a heart beat, so it was completely but he had not expected his sister to keep him at the confectionery till sunset, neither did he expect this sudden interrogation from his brother. "I never you to have such a swift tongue, Sylvester." Dennis laughed as he gazed upwards, looking directly into the other's eyes. "Even feigning concern for me underneath that facade of yours; I must say that I feel quite touched." He continued, as he cracked his fingers. "But do I really appear that cheap in your vision to believe such a subtle lie? I know quite well, that you went to see Diane." Sylvester pratically exhaled at this point- he seated himself on the chair opposite to where Dennis was. Afterall, his legs stained underneath him and he was exhausted. He would possibly thirst for water after this conversation as well. "What does it matter to you if I went to see Diane or not? You don't bother to tell me much of your affairs by the way, is it that much of a necessity for me to tell you mine?" Sylvester inquired, whilst glaring at his brother in a hostile manner. "But I would like to know, was it an unconscious action of mine that gave me away? Or rather, did you send someone to trail my movement?" Sylvester inquired, although he knew quite well what the reply was going to be. "Your latter statement turned out to be the truth." Dennis told him. "Did you really have the impression that Cornelia was the only eyes I had in this household?" The man asked, crossing his legs elegantly. "I only have myself to blame for being less concious." Sylvester uttered silently, before running his hand through his Hair. "If you already had first hand information about my actions, why cause me to bother wagging my tongue?" He asked, seemingly irritated. At this point, Dennis was the designer of the snare, and Sylvester, the helpless prey that had fallen into it. "Nothing, truly. I just wanted to know if you would truly divulge the truth to me, or to bind me in your lies." Dennis informed his younger brother, as he tilted his head slightly. "It slipped my head completely- you had once colluded with Beatrice in that ignoble scheme." He muttered slightly, a small smile in his face. "And? What shall be your judgment concerning me? To place me in probation just as you did to father?" Sylvester muttered In a slightly infuriated voice. "Oh, no- that verdict would be too shallow if it was to be practiced on you." Dennis told him in a slightly mocking voice. "If ever a punishment does come to my mind, I will let you know. Perharps, I could even let you go Scott free for just this one time." Dennis informed him. "Oh, I would rather prefer if you sanctioned me." Sylvester told him, with a slight sneer. "It is just enough for one to pay for his wrong doings, is that not so? You already punished father, it will only be natural for me to equally receive my own fair share. If not, I shall feel guilty." He added, before instantly suppressing a yawn. "The candle is almost burnt up." He informed his brother, as he glanced at his side table. Dennis sighed. "By all means, it seems as though you are using all within your dispositions to chase me out of your room." He uttered, as he stood up. "All right then, I shall leave you to your devices" Dennis told him with a slight smirk, before proceeding to venture out of the room. "As I do you." Sylvester quipped, as he shut the door in a very crude fashion. At that very moment, a slight hiss could be heard; and Sylvester was thrown into darkness.

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 "My lady.. is this actually necessarily?" Katrina inquired with a slight frown, as she gazed at her mistress's handiwork. "Absolutely." Beatrice replied, not even bothering to raise her head. "It seems to me but a terrible waste of candles." Katrina mumbled under her breath. Both ladies were in a spacious room, which was completely bare with not a single furniture besides the crib, which stood idly in the middle of the room. Upon a ladder, was a Man who held a candle to the ceiling above; utilitising the small, flickering flame as an instrument to create an alternative pattern of black on the plain white ceiling. "This shall surely take him a day, my lady.. are you certain that he would not request for an increase in his wage?" Katrina who stood closely to her mistress, could not Help but mumble. "That is not an issue that bothers me in the slightest." Beatrice whispered back. "So long has he succeeds to finish the task assigned to him, I am more than content." She replied, as she folded her hands before her, while scrutinizing the man's handiwork meticulously, as though she were perfectly capable of detecting a blunder before the man made it. "Beatrice.. my goodness, is this the room which was assigned for the child?" Beatrice flinched when she heard that voice. For a brief moment, she believed that she had heard Dennis's voice, and she stared blankly at the blue eyed fellow who stood before her. The man also returned a steady gaze, before a smile crept to his lips. "My, my, Beatrice, how you do stare!" He exclaimed, before adjusting the bundle of clothes In his arms. "You May raise your head, Katrina." Sylvester addressed the maid, who had been suspended in her courtesy for quite some time now. "Thank, you my lord." Katrina said as she stood erect. For a moment, Katrina could swear that she heard a slight crack from around her pelvic region. If it had been anyone else, most especially Dennis, she,.would have cussed at him inwardly. But how could she possibly curse at the one of whom she had found favor in his sight?

 "Pardon my gaze." Beatrice stated in a low voice, as she lowered her head. With each passing day, it felt more as though Sylvester was beginning to bear an uncanny resemblance with his older brother, so much so as to even their mannerisms began to lose distinction to her. "Katrina." Sylvester called out to the woman, who was trying to nurse the sore region of her body. "You called for me, my lord?" Katrina immediately stood at attention, eager to receive his orders. "In your field of vision, do I appear more attractive or handsome to you?" Katrina just stood there momentarily, her eyes wide open. 'Young Master, could it be possible that a maiden has caught your attention?' She thought, but she quickly recollected herself. "Ah.. Why yes? Perhaps it is puberty.. the effect of your hormones.. not only does My master seem more elegant.. his voice has also gotten deeper as well... He has sprouted even a few more centimeters.. I was of the opinion that he needn't grow taller... My lady, that hurt! What did I do to warrant such harassment?!" Katrina had been throttling on like a broken stero player this entire time- so loud and unrestrained was she, that her mistress was compelled to bring her to order; through a hard pinch to the ribs. "Do try to Lower your voice when you speak, Katrina." Beatrice began, as she turned towards the latter. "Do you not notice how the environs have become serene, without your constant squabbling as a boar about to be slaughtered?" Beatrice inquired. She was obviously displeased; the frown on her face said it all. "Pardon my imprudence, my lady." Katrina apologized, her head lowered. Sylvester Laughed; one that was pleasant to the hearing. "Leave Katrina be." He began. "She is not entirely wrong, I believe; I have come of the age when my hormones are in abundance." He said, before turning to the latter. "Katrina, I will show you my gratitude for bringing to my knowledge, things I know naught of." Sylvester said, with a smile. "I-it is an honor to please my lord!" Katrina exclaimed with sparkling eyes, as she Groveled herself towards the earth. The painter had already descended, attracted by the phrase of 'My lord.' The candle had already burnt up, and while he was yet to get another, why not pay respects to the lord of this household?

"My lord." The painter uttered, as he bowed himself before Sylvester. "Save me your courtesy and unnecessary introductions." Sylvester told the man, groveling before him. "Just get back to your occupation- do not hesitate to name the sum, so long as you do a decent job." He added. "I shall not disappoint you, my lord!" The man hurriedly assured, before hasting to fetch another candle. Whatever sum? Why not indeed? Could that Lad possible be the heir of this household?! "Katrina." Sylvester called once more. "Yes, my lord?" The maidservant responded instantly. "Ensure to give that man whatever it is he needs- be it water or food." "Taken note of, My lord." "And one more thing- send these clothes off to be laundered, and once they are, ensure that you dispatch them to the captain of the guards, without fail. Take care that nothing be amiss." Sylvester instructed, while glancing at the latter sharply. Katrina left as soon as She was instructed. "It seems that you are still yet to gain your full vigour." Beatrice's voice made Sylvester to glance at her. "I do not know what Katrina went on about- concerning puberty and all that, but your voice seems to me, even more frail to the hearing." Beatrice told him, tears pooling around her eyelids. Sylvester nearly flinched- is this what they call a moodswing? Alas! But she appeared so irritated with Katrina earlier on! 

 "I am yet still recuperating, Beatrice." Sylvester informed her, in order to quell her qualms. "But I wonder, mayhap did Dennis approach you for whatever reason? Do tell." Sylvester inquired. Beatrice angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. "What does that Rouge want to do with me?" She began, until she saw Sylvester's eyes wander for a bit. "Is anything the matter?" She asked out of concern, when she observed that Sylvester remained silent. "No, It is nothing. I only wanted to know If he had issues with you." He replied, as he gazed at the alternating patterns of black and white on the ceiling. 'It is the egg whites that shall go to waste next, after the candles been burnt.' Sylvester thought, a smile on his face.

 Beatrice stood alone, as she watched Sylvester hobble out of the room. 'This Lad is so obstinate; he refuses to Meet with the physician, despite his ailing health. ' She thought, as she folded her hands. 'Sylvester, you only have one duty which you owe to me...

Please don't take after your brother when you grow up.'

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 Sylvester was seated on the bed once more, constantly circling And ticking the items in a black book. His brows furrowed automatically when he saw a certainparagraph, which stated:

 One's primary element is who determines your Evergio shall be. They could be in existence, dual elemental users, or even triple elemental users. But one thing you should take note of in essential- primary element is the one which you awaken first, while being in constant guidance of your Evergio. Although there is a probability of awakening another element, it is often very low. The Evergios are mostly seven in number; and these be their corresponding titles- The mother of Light. The god of blood and war. The Guardian of darkness. The harbinger of storms. Daughter of the earth. Harnesser of the wind. Sacred Pearl of the waters. Should..

 Sylvester closed the book with much vexation at this point. "Depart from me, thou accursed book!" He yelled, flinging it as he did so, before sighing in despondency. "Now, I am beginning to get even more curious.." He thought as he stood up. "Nevermind, I shall just practice my ability." He stretched out his hand. "Wind.." Before he could even complete his sentence, he felt a warm stream trickling out of his nose. "Well now. This is Rather unprecedented." He mused to himself, as he stared at the bright red fluid in his hands.

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 "Eras, which do you think suits me better? Be it this one, or the other? "Beatrice, who was holding an alternative pattern of dark blue and yellow dresses asked the man, who had lain upon her bed as though he were suffering from a head cold. "I see no reason as to why you brought me Here to play such a petty role." His monotone voice echoed into Beatrice's ear. "Petty!" Beatrice cried out In alarm, before turning to her maid that had her eyes closed, seemingly holding the squabble between the two in no regard. "Young Master, this has to concern the future of the lady of this household. You should pay apt attention to the little miss, as she so demands of you." The maid who opened up her eyes at last, finally spoke. "Grandeine, was it not you who was to decide upon her choice of clothing?" Erastiel stated, as he raised his head. "Young Master is indeed correct in his deductions." Grandeine told him, as she gazed at the young man who was slouched on the bed. "But the young mistress specifically, wants you to pick an attire for her." The maid insisted. Only after a long series of groaning and moaning, did Erastiel bring it upon himself to sit erect. Beatrice stuck her tongue out at him in a childish manner. "Young miss, that behavior of yours is quite inappropriate for one who is about to be betrothed." Her maid reprimanded her from the sidelines. "I am rendering you of assistance here; what if your wife requests for you to choose her clothes for her someday?" Beatrice inquired, her demeanor gallant due to her triumph. Erastiel just gazed at her with dead Pan eyes. "That dark blue one suits you better, I believe." He replied, before flopping unto the bed once more. 'What In the cosmos is up with him?" Beatrice mumbled into the ear of her maid. "Perharps, he is but a bit depressed that you shall be with him no more to hatch mischievous schemes?" Grandeine remarked, when she recalled how much chaos these two cousins wreaked upon the Adriel household. "I doubt highly if he would miss me that dearly. Perhaps he is down due to some other reason." Beatrice commented, as she placed the yellow dress back into her cupboard. "Eras." She called his name softly. "You will need to leave."

 Meanwhile, in the interiors of a specific carraige, two grown men were sitted elegantly, but one was more matured and distinguish in the other. "Now, do bear In mind that you must be well behaved at all times; it would be more beneficial to you if you leave a lasting impression on them." George began, as he adjusted his cuff links. "Alright, father." Dennis responded monotonously. He just gazed out of the carraige window, acting as though all the world was boring to him. Sylvester, who was seated beside him, just leant his head backward with his eyes closed, not fully comprehending why his father had offered to take him along. 'Perharps to show an engagement between aristocratic families seem like? No, I doubt highly.' Sylvester mused inwardly, before gazing at his brother with squinted eyes. 'I have seen brother sulk many a time, but, this is my first realizing that he could be such a wet blanket.' Sylvester thought. The carraige momentarily came to a halt. "It appears that we have arrived." George uttered, while peeking through the curtains. "Now, the both of you better maintain a proper demanor. Dennis, you could do well to fix that countenance of yours- you appear to be quite the miser at the moment.' George spoke to both his sons, being more strict with one than the other. "Mistakes shall not be tolerated." He stated in addition, as he highlighted from the carraige. "Brother, let me assist you to fix your collar." Sylvester told Dennis, before the latter could even have the chance to exit from the vessel. "It seems like this engagement is really taking a toil on you; may I ask the reason why that is so?" Sylvester inquired, as he fiddled with his brother's collar. "Even if I spun the tale to you, you will not be of much assistance." Dennis began. "Hands off." He added, as he shrugged his brother's hands off him before highlighting from the carraige. His collar was perfectly fine; Sylvester only uttered that statement so he could prod further into the issue. But Dennis made his effort to come crashing back down to the earth. He sighed as he too, also came down from the carraige.

 The architecture of the Baron's residence was not quite large; neither was it too pleasing to the eye, it was only a level above average, but it was still inhabitable, and that was what truly mattered. To George and his two sons that came from a much more grandiose residence, the place seemed a bit small and cramped. Nonetheless, the reception which they received made the entire trip worth it.

 Standing at there at the entrance, was Hiran, his wife and his nephew, all putting on elegant clothing, if one would not even say, their most elegant. They were of all smiles, except for Erastiel, who was giving it his utmost best to put up an act. "Hiran." "George." Both men called each other by their first names, before firmly gripping the hands of each other."It is a pleasure to finally meet with you once again, Marquis." Querrin said as she Courtsied. This was not the first time that the Baroness was being acquainted to the Marquis, she had met with him at other social events organized by prestigious nobles; an indispensable part of an aristocrat' life, given the fact that you were actually invited to attend. Declination could be considered as a grave insult, it would had been a much more suitable alternative had you personally rendered a slap across the person's face. "By the way, where is your daughter?" George inquired, as he glanced around. "Beatrice." The Baroness called sternly, for some reason. As soon as She said that, a lady with dark purple hair soon stood aside from the Baroness' shadow. So well concealed was she that none of the three men noticed it. She made eye contact with Dennis for a brief moment, before glancing back down In an instant. "It is an honor to meet you, marquis!" She exclaimed, in a trembling voice. "Do forgive her for her discourtesy; she can be quite shy sometimes." The Baroness apologized awkwardly, for the sake of her daughter. George laughed. To be frank, he did not expect her to be this beautiful. It was rather fortunate (for her) that she inherited some of the Baroness's good graces. "It is alright, we shall soon become relatives, afterall."

 They eventually went indoors, of which all the necessary and formal introductions was made after having tea. "It is rather a pity that your sister could not attend Dennis." The baron told him, as he glanced at the latter. Dennis was at a loss for words. What could he tell them? Diane had not the faintest inkling as to where they were headed- she probably had the opinion that it would be another business meeting. George however laughed loudly, causing the baron to focus his attentive on him. "Well, we could not afford to leave the little one on his own- there had to be someone to look after him." He stated, immediately turning the tide of the situation to be in his favor. "Well, the Marquis is not entirely wrong In that aspect." The Baroness agreed, as she placed her cup down. "It would be rather cruel to leave a child that young to the custody of the servants- what If something were to happen to him?" She quipped in. Hiran nodded as his wife said that. "Although, I would still have loved to meet with Diane though." The Baroness mused. "Lady Myla appeared to have washed a few feautures of hers to Dennis, so I can't help but wonder if Diane could be considered her reincarnate." She jokingly said. "She may not be as dazzling as her mother was, but she is still a darling, regardless!" George laughed, as she he raised his glass into the air. "Dear, I am aware that you lost your mother at a young age." The Baroness said, as she turned back to Dennis. "But do not forget that I can also be a mother to you; so do not hesitate to address me as such, alright?" She inquired. Dennis stared for a while at this woman, who just gazed at him with calm eyes. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Alright." He replied, in a cracked voice.

 While everyone was making merry with one another, Beatrice apparent whispered something into her mom's ears. "You silly child." Her mother replied In response. "Dennis, I hope you do not mind? Beatrice was asking if you would want to Perharps take a walk with her in the garden." She said, with a smile. "Oh, that is.." Dennis began, but his father interrupted him. "He will most surely go with her." He stated. "Will you not, Dennis?"

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 Dennis was visibly confused. He knew that he had not met this damsel before, and yet he permitted her to Toy around with him as she pleased. So far, he had just accompanied her to wherever sector of the garden she intended to visit. 'Why does she act like she knows me so well?' Dennis could not Help but think, as he somewhat struggled to keep up with the slender arm that was in his. But that arm was warm, and soft to the touch, he thought. The damsel did not have much to say, besides revealing to him a bit of her childhood, and making inquiries as to what his preferences were. "Dennis, how many children would you like to have?" She blurted out suddenly. Dennis raised a brow at her, and Beatrice immediately covered her face with her hands. 'Ay, me.' She muttered, as she instantly covered her face with her hands, the tip of her ears turning red. 'What In the world made me to ask of such a question? He shall find me less admirable now, shall he not?' She thought, as she peeked at him from in between her fingers. "You are rather amusing, Lady Beatrice.' Dennis said, a slight smile coming to his face. "Pardon me for the slip up- what I meant to inquire was, what is your favorite flower?' Beatrice muttered, as she gazed at him intently. "I don't really hold Any in due consideration." Dennis replied, as he pondered for a moment. "My sister prefers Roses, though." Dennis informed her. "Roses." Beatrice muttered, as she pointed towards another sector of the garden. "Shall we head over there?"

 "So, what do you think?"Beatrice interrogated the man next to her. The man tilted his head slightly. "Pardon if My statement may be offensive, but they appear slightly dull to me?" Well. He was not saying that as a joke. Half of the roses seemed to be slowly wilting away, due to lack of proper maintenance. At the same time, Dennis could point out a contributing factor to the baron's manor being so small. That was because the space invested in the garden was absurd! "The garden in my manor is larger than this, though." Dennis muttered, as he slowly reached for a rose. But Beatrice took a note of that. "Is that so?" She said, before a slight smile came to her face. 'What a pity- he doesn't seem to remember me.' She thought, as she saw him absent mindedly reach for one of the roses. 'Sometimes, this rose reminds me of myself... I have no one to support me, and no one to lean on. I feel so.. alone.' He thought, as he slowly reached out for one of them. But due to his absent mindedness, a thorn slightly pricked his finger, causing him to whince in pain. "Are you a fool?!" Beatrice who had bounded up to his side, berated him immediately. "Just look how you bleed! Did you not know that roses possess thorns?" She continued to chide him. Dennis did not mind the insolent remark of earlier, all he knew was that this lady genuinely cared for him. "You need to be more careful, young Master." She said, as she wrapped the red handkerchief around his arm. 'Wait this is.. this is.. mine.' He thought, as he looked up at her In surprise. So, it turned out to be her all along. The memory was hazy, but he recalled a period of his life wherein he gifted to a maiden, an item of similar fashion. He gazed at her face once more. It was indeed her; he was certain of it- she only looked more matured and beautiful. He purple hair had been lighter when they first met; but now not only was it darker, there was a few strands of black as well. These four years had altered her greatly. "That is enough." Dennis suddenly spoke. "What? Are you sure?" Beatrice inquired, as she glanced up at him. "But your hand still bleeds.." She observed, but Dennis forcefully yanked out his hand. "Let us go in, I am exhausted." He told her, and without waiting for her reply, strode back in the direction of the manor. "Alright." Beatrice trailed behind him, confused as to why his attitude underwent a sudden change.

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 "Oh, they there are." Querrin observed delightedly, when she saw the two young adults step into the room. "So, how was it? Did the both of you get to know more about each other?" She asked, a smile on her face. "Yes." Beatrice, who stood in close proximity with Dennis, mumbled shyly. Dennis glanced at her front the corner of his eye. "I have a complaint, to make, I am afraid." Dennis told them simply. The atmosphere immediately turned solemn. "What could it be, lad?" The baron worriedly inquired. "Could our Beatrice have done something that irked you?" He posed the question to Dennis. "She did not." Dennis told them. "After taking due consideration, I am of the opinion that I can no longer Wed your daughter, Baron. My deepest apologies." Dennis explained, while giving an elegant bow. 'What is this lad going about now?' The baron thought in his head, his heart pounding Amidst all the agitation. 'Of what essence did I sacrifice my asset, if you had embarked on such a decision?' "What nonsense are you uttering from your mouth, Dennis?" George exclaimed loudly, his eyebrows furrowed so deeply that they brought upon his feautures, a new appearance. "You heard Me quite clearly, father." Dennis told the older man, looking at him dead in the eye. "I shall not repose upon my decision soon, irregardless of what it is you want to say." Dennis told him, his voice firm. Sylvester could only sit in the side, observing the whole scenario unfold, pondering if it was appropriate or not, to intervene. Even if he did, would the adults listen to him anyway? "Young Master, perhaps have I done something to sour your mood? If it be so, I am willing to apologize right away." Beatrice told Dennis, in a shaking voice. Dennis was not blind- he could see the tears at the corner of her eyes. 'Forgive me, Beatrice.' He thought as he gazed at her. 'I doubted highly if you were aware of the deal our parents embarked on, and your behavior today shows it. You are a human being; not some item of trade. Even if it were another girl standing before me as of now, My judgment will still remain the same. So please, I would require of your assistance; after this day, forget about me, may we meet no further. I will also ensure to return to your father what is rightfully is.' "Young mast.." Beatrice reached out to touch his hand, when she saw that he remained silent. "Don't dare defile my being with that filthy hand of yours!" Dennis snapped at her, as he stepped back a little bit. "Do you really think, in your wildest imagination that I would actually agree to get married to someone like you?" He inquired, as a mocking smile came to his face. "What about my prestige and reputation in the society? Why should I Lower myself for your cause!" Dennis added, as he shrugged his shoulders. "You!" Eras called out, as held Dennis by the scruff of his neck. "Do your even realise now what you do? Do you know how much this family has sacrificed for this arrangement?" "Eras!" Querrin called out worriedly. she did not know which one worried her more- the fact that he might end up murdering Dennis, or if he would end up blurting about the mine. Dennis calmly looked at his aggressor. "You are not even worthy of cleaning my shoes with your tongue." He stated, as he shrugged Erastiel off him. "Sacrifice? What sacrifice do you speak of? Do you even possess anything to sacrifice?" Dennis gave the latter a mocking look. Erastiel tightened his fists, he did not do anything for the sake of Beatrice. "It amazes me how your family manages to survive for so long." Dennis told him. "You can barely even cater for flowers, nonetheless your own selves. You all attempt to live off a basic sustenance, a situation no different from dogs on a street.." "Dennis!" George called out angrily. His face was completely red this time. With a trembling finger, he pointed towards the Adriel's. "You shall... apologize to them this instant." Dennis glanced at his father in disdain. "I apologize to actual people, not mongrels." He said, as he turned towards the door. "This engagement is off." As soon as Beatrice heard that, she crumbled onto the Floor, hands on her knees, as she broke into tears.