Meanwhile on the Duke's Estate, Syrion paced around the room, biting on his thumb
"`What do you mean you haven't heard anything from mother?!" He snaps, turning to one of his servant
"You're telling me my mother doesn't know the protestors outside the Estate's gate?! She, wants me here! So she could be here!" He pants "Bring. My. Mother. Here!"
His servant bowed and immediately went outside the office, closing the door, muffling the vase getting thrown
"No... No. Those people are supposed to press my claim! I'm the son!" He trembles
"You are the true heir of House Millaber, Syrion, the only son of Duke Millaber" Syrion's mother said
"But there's a purple haired girl always beside him, remember when they walk these paths of the town before? She even looked me in the eye before giving me a glare! She recognizes me!"
"As. A Duke. She recognizes you because you look so much like the Duke" She caresses his cheek
"..Really? It's because she doesn't hate me?" Syrion asks
"She hates you, she really do. Because you look like the Duke and she's not, And she'll never look like him."
"..."
Syrion eyes drop, his undereyes red, he's just a child, afterall. His hands clench into fists as he looks at the office table, on the front of the wooden desk, there's a named carve into it
Millaber
He carved a line in the middle of it, he's being petty as he did so, he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping the shard of vase tightly as he crossed the name Millaber
The name he'll never be able to live up to.
Meanwhile, his assistant now in a carriage in the middle of the night just to find his mother, it was raining and the road is muddy
But with the Millaber's great coachman, he should be able to reach to the town where his mother was before the rain gets even heavier
"Uh.. s-sir--" The coachman paused, which took the assistant's attention, "Oi! What happened?" He asks
The coachman didn't speak so the assistant steps out of the carriage, but just then, a sword was pointed on his neck, a person behind him, on a hood
He looks over to the coachman, the coachman fainted by the person in front of him, the person pulled down his hood
"S-Sir Ren?" He asks before looking on his back, Reillana staring at his soul
He whimpers, remembering a certain horse he met once, and he then heard it, on the woods, a horse walked and revealed itself, a black horse that was staring on his soul as well
He whimpers again, This is pure torture. He thought, knowing full well the two won't kill him