"Are you listening?"
"... I am. Yet what you say is common. A little sister is sweet to her brother. A natural thing—"
"She’s the sweetest to . We love each other."
"... son... that is a delusion of yours." — In a desperate wish to help his son see the truth, Orland softly told him. — "Your sister did love you but not like you believe. These doings you have committed now scare her, Paul."
"..."
"You understand this right? What you did hurt her instead, Paul."
"His grace is the delusional one." — Unfazed, he replied. — "You cannot accept that her heart is mine. You keep trying to sell her to those of the crown. She has told so many tis how she loves and wants by her side yet you stand in the way like a curse itself."
Closing in, the disturbance in Paul’s insides was infected to Orland with rejection. A tight growl released a strong and ragged breath. Permitting his sound to calm the very air in morbid stillness. — "... Father. This grief I feel is your fault."
"..."
"You should understand that Marianne is not only my blood but my destiny. She’s the one who makes life valuable."
"Paulos... please, co to your senses..."
"... such a nickna, I despise it. You seem to love whenever you say it and yet you disapprove of our happiness." — Annoyed, he straightened, looking with contempt at the father whose soul ached at the insanity of the son he still loved and would ever do even while his path was evil. — "This must be why Marianne also had trouble escaping your pressure... for she’s lovingly gentle."
"Paulos, what you’re saying... even your soul doesn’t believe it. Well you know that my life, my everything, was dedicated so you as my children could find happiness. Marianne’s trouble, deep inside you know it is not because I stood in her way. She doesn’t love you as a man, Paul."
"... what you say... should be thought thoroughly before spitting it." — Nonchalantly, the young man ignored the truth his father told him. — "I did not co to hear this nonsense from the forr Duke of Sylfinnier."
"What kind of nace is that?"
"It is not a nace. Listen closely... It has started." — Inviting Orland to pay attention, Paul smirked at the sounds of many footsteps running around the mansion. — "Tonight the dukes will die."
"..."
"Are you thinking about mother? Did she tell you anything? I am sure she did." — Taking so steps back to see how a fire had started in the forest Marianne always watched, he fantasised about the new beginnings. Entertained at the mock Elenaide beca. — "Mother was so naive... she got to my jail that day thanks to the witch. She said I should free myself soon and make justice for our na... saying I should erase Marianne from earth... such a dumb woman you married, Orland. To say that to was like sealing her sentence of death—bwh!?"
"KEEP YOUR N AWAY FROM HER! SAY THE ORDER!!" — After hitting him, Orland shook the son demanding sanity.
"Kh...phtoo... the lucid warrior doesn’t seem as lucid tonight..."
"Paul! She’s your mother!! As many sins as you’ve committed if you continue like this, there won’t be anything that will save your soul!! The sanguine realm will throw it to the pits of boiling blood!!"
"It’s fine as long as Marianne is mine." — Hitting Orland with his elbow he changed places with him, doing more than hitting him now that his lucid side hasn’t co back.
"Phwh... P-Paulos..."
"I told you to think your words thoroughly. They are ant to be your last ones... Dad. You shouldn’t waste them."
The sound of the knife coming out of Orland’s flesh was louder than the chaos attacking his ho. The warmth of his father’s blood in his hand was accompanied by the coldness of the forehead he pushed with his to get his reticent stance off balance.
Sitting both on Marianne’s floor, Orland watched the wound the son provoked. And whilst in shock by the pain and bewildernt, Paul stood up seemingly bored.
"Don’t move and let yourself die here, Orland... it will be a great gift for my Marianne."
Cold to a dying father, Paul smiled as he left the chambers of his sister, leaving his bloody hand marked on its door, proud of his doings, fantasising with a scene that would not co. — ’You will love this, my loved Marianne...’
He made sure to close the door behind him, watching with tranquillity how the servants he knew from a young age were handled violently by the void n.
"No! P-please! Don’t hurt myself! A re servant I am!! ?! Y-young Master!! Help!" — An old servant fell as she failed to escape. Catching sight of Paul who observed the man of empty eyes yielding a sword to end her life while others searched more rooms.
He started to close in on them, stopping the soldier montarily with his presence, pondering on the truth behind such an army.
"That witch has disgusting hobbies... to poison bones into submission... my Marianne would never do such a lowly unsophisticated thing."
Paul’s mouth twisted, indifferent to the little hope his approach had sown in a helpless woman to ultimately walk away. Unbothered by the begging cries that would die along her life.
’I should deal with that woman quickly.’ — He thought. — ’The sooner I do... the sooner I will have Marianne in my arms.’
*******
’Marianne! Sister, where are you??!’ — Theressa, out of breath searched. The strong rumble had shaken her just as many others, however, so very different for she had been summoned to the third prince’s chambers finally yet suddenly.
No ti was there for her to inform her sister of such a eting. The trust between them had strengthened and just as it grew her loyalty, worry did as well. Hence, even if not by her own mouth, a note would be sent along with her maid Louisa, who was fond of her changed master who now treated her lovingly while regretting the past she could not completely control.
’!!... I am so sorry Louisa!!’ — She cried while afraid of what else would co. For the girl had witnessed grueso scenes only a few minutes ago.
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