The suffocating silence of the work was broken only by the dry, rhythmic rustle of parchment.
Behind a massive mahogany desk sat the Duke, his face a chiseled mask of stern, unyielding severity. His eyes, cold and sharp as shards of flint, tracked line after line of the estate’s paperwork. Every document required his absolute scrutiny; in the house of Roderick, weakness was a sin, and negligence was fatal.
A sharp, disciplined knock shattered the quiet.
"Come in," the Duke commanded, his voice slicing through the room like a blade.
The heavy oak door swung open with a muted creak. Stepping into the room was Chris, a man whose very presence exuded a cool, timeless elegance. Dressed in a flawless black and white tailcoat, the old butler moved with the fluid grace of someone who had weathered a lifetime of aristocratic storms.
His face was a living chronicle of wisdom,etched with lines of profound experience, unshakeable loyalty, and the quiet dignity of a man who had seen the rise and fall of empires, yet remained the bedrock of the Roderick family.
Chris stopped a precise three paces from the desk, lowering his head in a perfectly executed bow. "Your Grace."
The Duke did not look up immediately, his quill finalizing a signature with vicious precision.
"Speak, Chris."
The words dripped with a chilling intensity, an unspoken warning that whatever broke his concentration had best be worth the intrusion.
Without a word, Chris stepped forward. With practiced, gentle reverence, he placed a thick parchment envelope upon the mahogany surface.
Intrigued by the Butler’s solemn silence, the Duke snatched the letter, tearing it open with a single, violent flick of his thumb. He began to read.
At first, there was only the tense ticking of the time clock. Then, the air in the room seemed to violently shift. The Duke’s jaw tightened, the muscles flexing with a sudden, toxic fury. His eyes dilated, drinking in the words on the page as a terrifying crimson flush crawled up his neck.
"THAT USELESS BOY!"
The roar tore from his throat, a guttural sound of pure, unadulterated rage
Before Chris could even blink, the Duke’s fist descended like a thunderbolt.
/CRACK/
The heavy desk groaned under the sheer force of the blow. The impact sent a violent shockwave through the wood, launching the carefully organized stacks of paperwork high into the air.
Like a flock of startled white birds, the documents scattered, withering and fluttering chaotically through the room before raining down onto the floor. But the Duke didn’t care. He stood shaking, his teeth bared and his chest heaving, his fingers crushing the letter into a ruined, crumpled ball of paper.
***
. //HIEEKK//
He froze, his fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of his mug. ’Why do I suddenly feel a chill?’ he thought, his body trembling slightly as if a phantom gust of icy wind had just swept right through his bones.
Taking a slow, wheezing breath to steady his racing heart, he forced himself to take a calm, deliberate sip of his coffee. He was sitting in the farthest corner of the crowded cafeteria, a deliberate choice meant to buy him some semblance of peace. He wanted to blend into the woodwork, to disappear entirely, to avoid even the slightest hint of conflict.
Yet, the universe clearly had other plans.
Even from his isolated vantage point, the air felt suffocatingly heavy. He could feel them before he saw them—dozens of sharp, judgmental gazes locking onto him from every direction.
’Why does it feel like everyone is looking at me?’ he wondered, keeping his eyes glued to the dark liquid in his cup, refusing to give them the satisfaction of looking back.
His mood was already sour, weighed down by a heavy, bitter knot in his stomach. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to apologize yet, and the unresolved guilt was eating him alive.
"Well... well, who do we have here.. mighty.. mighty Great Vale Roderick"
The voice landed on his ear like a drop of sulphuric acid. It dripped with a heavy, performative mockery that made his eye twitch.
Of all the people, of all the times, it just had to be him. The sheer irritation of it meeting his anxiety, replacing the chill in his veins with a spark of genuine annoyance.
’Seriously?’ he thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. ’In every cliché fantasy movie, there’s always that one guy’, the arrogant archetype who genuinely believes the world revolves around him, swaggering forward with a voice practically steeped in unearned superiority.It was a tired, predictable routine.
In fact, it was the exact same prototype Vale used to play. Amused by the sheer irony of the situation, the irritation in his chest settled into something a bit more dangerous. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he finally looked up to face the incoming cliché.
Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head, letting his gaze track the source of the voice.
There he stood: Matheus Cronia. The boy was practically a caricature of minor nobility, the heir to the Cronia Earldom, carrying himself with the unearned swagger of a king.
Objectively on the contrary, it was a bizarre sight. In the rigid, unforgiving hierarchy of high society, a mere count’s son should have sooner cut out his own tongue than dare provoke the scion of a Duke. The power dynamic wasn’t just skewed; it was a death wish.
Yet, Matheus was grinning, entirely fearless. And the reason for his sudden, brazen confidence was painfully obvious.
The Duke’s son—once an untouchable pillar of authority—had seen his tyranny finally hit its expiration date. One years of rule within the academy walls over lower class student had crashed and burned, his reputation hitting rock bottom in spectacular fashion especially after the duel...
He was no longer the predator; he was a wounded animal. And a vulture like Matheus was more than happy to swoop in for a taste of the carcass.
"Is there anything you need Matheus" speak with a calm tone while sipping his coffee...Less worth bothering his mocking tone...
" "
Vale then placed down the coffee, walking step by step with a deliberated pace. Standing right next to him directly looking into his eyes with an amused smile...Looking for entertainment like he always did on earth...