Eiran swung his legs, staring at the glass of milk in front of him. It had already been a week since Soren and James left.
Recently, Zayden has barely visited him. He no longer comes to Eiran’s room to sleep at night, just like before. They rarely have dinner together, either.
"Young Master?" Celine tilted her head, noticing the child had zoned out, closing her book.
The boy looked up, forcing a smile.
Celine nodded. The child had been absent-minded lately. He wasn’t particularly the studious kind. However, for him not to even open his books or do the tasks assigned was nevertheless concerning. She requested an audience with the General, however, she was refused.
"It’s time for you to leave," Eiran said, looking outside the window. The sky had turned a peach orange, fading softly into violet at the horizon.
The lady’s mouth opened slightly, surprised.
Inhaling deeply, she picked up her books, rising from her seat. She bowed before exiting the room.
Eiran lay on the couch, his hair falling over his face. He twirled the strands around, staring blankly into the room.
The sky had turned dark, but Eiran didn’t move. The door creaked open: however, he didn’t notice. Ren stepped inside, watching the child.
That night, when Eiran told him that his Dad hated him, Ren couldn’t utter a word. As if a spell had been cast upon him, freezing him.
He just stared at the small, trembling figure before him, heart tightening in a way he hadn’t expected. Every instinct wanted to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t true—but the words stuck somewhere deep in his throat.
Then, Eiran forced a laugh.
"I was joking," he said, wiping the tears. "You fell for it."
Although he said that, Ren didn’t believe it. No child could fake something like that. He noticed how the boy began changing—he rarely laughed, always staring into the distance. He didn’t talk much during dinner, nor did he insist that Ren sleep by his side at night.
When he asked Hannah, she simply said: "Some children grow up before you realize it."
But does it mean they have to look so... sad?
He stepped closer, gently brushing the hair from Eiran’s forehead. The boy blinked but didn’t move away.
"Papa," he spoke softly, his voice hoarse.
Ren knelt to the floor, nodding. "Why did you say you think the Lord hates you?" he finally asked. Seeing him ached his chest. He needed to at least find out what happened.
Eiran averted his gaze, hands covering his face, as if ashamed. "I am not a pure blood... Is it a bad thing?"
Ren’s eyes widened. Who could have told him that?
"No. But where did you?—"
"I went to Dad’s study room. I wanted to make sure he would sleep with us, again. So that we... we look more like a family. Like those in the books. Happy," his expression darkened.
"The servants say you are not my father, but that’s not true," he said, removing his hands, tears streaming down his face again, his gaze flickering toward Ren.
"But you are my father! And," he paused, steadying his breath, "I heard Hannah say I am not growing up like I should. And asked Dad if he would abandon me," his breath hitched.
"And Dad remained silent!.. He doesn’t want me here. From the start, he barely came to visit me. Then, suddenly, one day, he appeared everywhere. And now, he is back to how he was... It means I am not worthy enough—" he broke into tears. This update is available on n0velfire.net
Ren felt a knot form in his stomach, his hands clenching. He wanted to shake the boy, to tell him it wasn’t true, to keep his composure, but all he could do was pull him close, wrapping his arms around Eiran. The hug was tight, almost suffocating, yet comforting. Ren’s heart ached in a way he didn’t expect.
He had to talk to the General about this.
Even if it meant he had to turn against Zayden. He had no right to hurt the child —Ren paused.
The General had every right to do so.
"A parent could treat their children however they want." A voice echoed in his mind, but he refused to believe it. After all, that person had only ever spouted lies.
"P-Papa," Eiran gently pushed Ren away, trying to breathe. "You will crush my bones," he grinned, although the tears still ran down his cheeks.
Ren broke the hug, looking at him. He didn’t know how to comfort someone. What was he supposed to say?
"It’s time for Dad to return... I will head back to my room. What if he gets upset because I..." he didn’t understand what he was supposed to manifest, but he didn’t want Ren to think he wasn’t worthy of his affection too.
"Alright," Ren forced a faint smile.
Once Eiran left the room, the servant looked below through the window panes. Zayden had dismounted his horse, entered the mansion. He debated whether he should talk about Eiran’s state or not.
With clenched fists, he exited the room soon after. It was almost time for him to serve the General his dinner. Paul and Maria took a brief break due to Maria’s pregnancy. She decided to keep the child because the thought of killing a living being inside her frightened her. Despite being a vampire, she believed in Gods and dreaded his punishments.
Ren couldn’t help but laugh at her for thinking like that.
Had the Gods existed, had they loved their children, would they have left them to suffer ?
Holding a tray in his hands, Ren knocked on the door. It swung open, and Zayden stood before him. Like always. Sometimes, it appeared as if he was waiting for him to knock... Ren shook the thought out of his mind.
He set the tray on the table. Lately, he had returned to the mansion late, leaving Ren with Eiran, failing to have dinner with his son. He knew that much. However, why did the child think Zayden didn’t want him?
Once the General settled at the table, beginning to eat, Ren looked at him—determined.
"Do you have something to say, Attendant?" Like always, as if he had read his mind, Zayden asked.
Ren nodded, but the General didn’t see the sign.
"I am eating. Care to talk for once?"
"... The Young Master believes you hate him."
Upon hearing that, Zayden coughed, choking on the piece of meat he had been eating.
After draining a glass of water rapidly, he shouted, "WHAT?!"