Despite the warning, Irene slowly raised her hand again.
This time aiming higher, toward the boy's head, his cheeks.
He had warned her twice already.
And he was still trembling.
But this time…
He didn't flick her hand away.
Irene's fingertips brushed his skin, then her whole palm rested gently on his cheek.
His skin was smooth, warm, perfectly soft against her cold shaking hand.
And as she touched him,
the trembling in his body eased.
His breathing slowed.
Balanced.
Calm.
"…I told you not to touch me, "
Before he could finish, Irene's hand slipped from his face.
Her body suddenly gave out.
She collapsed forward, falling like a doll whose strings had been cut.
Carlo gasped as the pressure snapped away from him.
He stumbled, then rushed inside, dropping to her side.
"Irene!"
The boy stood frozen.
Eyes wide, fixed on the collapsed girl.
He didn't move, He didn't act
He just stared at her.
Luckily
It seemed the girl had only fainted.
Her breathing was weak, but steady
and the boy could sense she was still alive.
Carlo, on the other hand, was panicking.
He shook her gently, calling her name again and again, desperate for her to wake.
But nothing he did made her respond.
As the boy watched, something in him snapped back into place,
He realized he had an opportunity.
To run.
To escape.
To get away from all the trouble he had caused today.
But then…
what about the girl?
What about the chaos he left behind?
He hesitated.
Only for a second.
Opportunities like this didn't last long.
And he took it.
The boy darted toward the door, sprinting past Carlo, who was still kneeling on the floor, entirely focused on his sister.
Carlo didn't even notice the young stranger rushing by him,
and even if he had,
he wouldn't have moved from Irene's side.
The boy ran.
Out of the shack.
Into the broad sunlight.
His bare feet hitting the ground in frantic rhythm as he pushed himself faster.
He kept running,
farther, deeper into the forest.
until, when he finally dared to glance back…
The shack was gone from sight.
Later that day, when the sun began to set and the sky turned gold,
the young boy finally returned to the large manor hidden deep within the forest.
The manor was enormous, wide stone walls, tall windows, and ancient towers.
Glorious… yet sinister.
A place that looked like it held something dark inside its halls, something cold and unwelcoming.
But the boy didn't hesitate.
He stepped up to the front door and pushed it open.
Inside, several maids were busy at work.
Their eyes flicked toward the entrance
and instantly, they bowed their heads.
The boy walked past them with a proud, straight posture, his expression unreadable.
Something in his face was tense, tight around the eyes, the jaw stiff.
He didn't give the maids a single glance.
He simply continued forward, cutting through the grand entrance hall and deeper into the manor's long corridors.
As he walked past the large, dark living room,
a gentle voice drifted out from the shadows
"You look dirty."
The boy's eyes widened ever so slightly.
His steps halted.
"Where have you been?"
The voice continued, footsteps approaching with calm, unhurried confidence.
Adrian slowly turned his head toward the room.
He couldn't see the speaker at first, only the silhouette moving closer
Then, as the figure stepped into the glow of the hallway lamp,
the darkness peeled away to reveal a tall man.
Beautiful, in a way few humans could ever be.
His posture elegant and effortless,
his clothing luxurious, perfectly tailored.
Hair as dark as the deepest night
and eyes even more vividly red than Adrian's.
"Adrian," the tall man said, voice gentle but carrying weight.
"…Charles," Adrian replied softly.
"Weren't you supposed to be at the noble's party?" Charles asked gently.
"It was boring," Adrian answered flat.
"…Hmm?"
Charles studied him for a moment, his eyes drifting over Adrian's dirt-stained clothing.
"Then where have you been?"
Adrian swallowed
"It's none of your business."
"I see."
"..."
Charles didn't push further.
Adrian clicked his tongue softly, then spoke in a hurried tone, already turning away.
"Since you're back, go talk to Ellie or something. I have to get going."
His tone was quick, hurried, almost defensive,
and before Charles could say anything else, Adrian brushed past him and walked away, his footsteps echoing sharply down the hall.
Charles stayed where he was.
Simply standing.
Watching.
Studying the young boy's retreating figure.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"…Hmmm?"
Adrian walked through the long halls of the manor.
The manor of the Niviane family.
He was the young master of this place,
a home grand enough to make anyone feel small,
yet cold enough to feel like a cage.
After changing his clothes and wiping the dirt from his hands and face, Adrian headed toward the dining room.
Several servants were already waiting.
As soon as they saw him approaching, they bowed deeply and pushed the large doors open for him.
Inside stretched a massive, luxurious dining table
polished surface, golden edges, candles flickering softly.
On the left sat Charles Niviane, the tall man from earlier.
Adrian's older brother.
Elegant, unreadable, watching the room with calm intelligence.
On the right sat a stunning young woman,
Eleanor Niviane, Adrian's younger sister.
Beautiful, elegant, and deadly in her own quiet way.
Her presence filled the room like frost.
At the end of the long table was an empty seat.
Though empty, it was clearly meant for someone,
someone important.
The owner of the manor.
The Count of the Niviane family.
Their father, Henry Niviane
He rarely attended dinners like this,
rarely appeared
rarely showed his face at all…
But that seat was still his.
A place must be reserved only for him,
even if he never came to fill it.