Chapter 277: Chapter 277 — It cannot be.
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His eyes observed how Marianne and the Prince walked away. Close by the hold of his arm, the girl stepped tranquil and harmonious as their pace was quiet and measured by her natural speed.
The veins on his jaw had started to pop out at the strong clench he grinds his teeth with for how desperately infuriating it was for the obsessive devotedness the Young Master held for his mute sister whose delectable figure he had not been able to touch at their awaited reunion.
His hands cracked themselves discreetly to the need of violence against Zeleskiaz, whose presence had hindered his welcome to his adored sister and along with his words and attitude towards every member of the Sylfinnier present, his visit had become certainly a full-blown derision.
Mostly to himself and Theressa, who had gone silent after the direct rejection of the Prince and acceptance of their Father.
"... You look bothered. Paul." — Orland suddenly told to his fixated son, whose gaze would not stop looking at the path she had walked to disappear with the dangerous Crown Prince... away from him. Her Brother. Who has been waiting impatiently for the day to have her back under their Household to express the sickly affection... And dissatisfaction he had been deeply saving since that disastrous night.
The night where his sister was touched disgustingly often by the man that kept stealing the dances meant for him to rejoice in... A ball night when she was taken away by such man against her will in his eyes... And had been prohibited of the closeness he has been craving with stronger desperation the more his unbecoming sentiment grew within his wretched soul.
"Bothered?" — Drifting his open eyes to stare at his Father now, Paul repeated in disbelief. — "I am aghast at Father’s leisure. How come you let that man go with Marianne alone to her chambers?"
"She’s not alone. Did you not see? Vitor went with them. He’s her new bodyguard."
"..... Why does she need a bodyguard suddenly? Are you even sure that man is a proper knight–"
"He is." — Cutting the voice of his son that was growing in volume as he spoke, Orland informed coldly. — "He is more than proper, Paul... And I will appreciate it if you don’t question my decisions."
"If it entails my family, I will question it. After all, I am your heir."
"... You are. However. You aren’t Duke yet." — Orland harshly responded to his offspring’s excuse. — "If I say not to question my decision... It means this is not a matter you have a say in or simply said... It is not of your incumbency, Paul."
The answer received made Paul pause to consider his next reply, maintaining his tall poise as it seemed he was being menaced by him, his progenitor, who had power over his status.
"By how I see it... It appears to me that it is Father who is bothered instead."
"It is good you notice." — The Duke, lifting his lids to meet his son’s golden hues flickered the silver glint within the coal, showing his displeasure that, unbeknownst to his children, was not for the reason he was about to convey. — "I was rejoiced to finally come home to my family. Yet... what is this? This unsightly behaviour from the two of you?... Look at me when I speak, Theressa."
"... Father... I don’t believe I–"
"You always have certain beliefs that are mistaken. This one is the case."
"If I am allowed to, Your Grace, you also–"
"Halt your words, Paul. Do not dare compare yourself and youngest sister with me." — Glaring at the seemingly composed heir, Orland once again cut into his sayings with the great authority he doesn’t show his children often. — "One thing is that I, who has grown a strong relationship directly with the Crown, with the Emperor... Can tease his Highness in aware jest... Yet another matter it is that both of you, my children, behave unmannered, unwelcoming, selfishly and furthermore, bring shame to the Head of this Household by giving yourself powers that do not correspond to you... This last one is especially for you, Theressa."
"Father... Yet how can we know that it is natural between you and the Royalty!? I was merely trying to be polite, unlike Brother!"
"Polite by lowering my authority. What kind of idea did you have when reprimanding me so openly in front of the Crown Prince? Listen, Theressa... It is solely because His Highness has already put you in place many times before that I saved you from another humiliation before him. Do not repeat this... I am already... saddened by the behaviour you showed me at the Palace. Do not make me regret the faith I still have in you as your Father."
"!!... Father! How can you say such a disheartening thing!"
"Your actions have caused this. Do not think I forgot what we talked about in the carriage."
"I said I was–!"
"I don’t want to hear another word... Go to your chambers or your mother. I am not going to listen to a child whose tone cannot be calm when having a conversation."
"!!! Hng!" — Theressa’s visage had distorted alarmed and tearful trying to explain. However, to the reprimand of her tender Father who this time was not inclined on letting her caprices go victorious, she bit her lip. Terribly hurt by the harshness, yet mostly enraged by the humiliation her own father had inflicted in front of her distasteful Brother.
Eventually, her pride guided her feet. And the young Miss departed in a constrained rush the room where only Orland and his son remained.
"...."
"... Where do you think you are going?" — To the step Paul gave in intent to follow Theressa on vacating the room, the Duke called his attention. — "I have not finished talking to you."
"... What is left for me to listen to, Your Grace?"
"Why are your eyes so red?" — Pacing closer to stand before his child, Orland asked. Coldly taking his chin to inspect the red in the white. — "Have you not been sleeping properly?"
"... Is His Grace worrying about me now?"
"As much as I am displeased, I care for you and your Sisters. Don’t be sarcastic."
"... I have not slept well for some time now. Yet I am positive that now that you and Marianne are back I may find some rest, Father."
".... If that is true... Then, that’s good." — Taking away his hand at the gentle lowering Paul gave it, Orland said, feigning relief while a shiver travelled his spine.
"Paul."
"Yes?"
"... Paulos..." — Looking directly into his son’s eyes, he called him with the affectionate nickname he used to address him. — "I also... Have faith in you, son."
"That makes me happy."
’... Yet why I don’t think it does, my child... my son...’
"Whichever reason there is that is causing you to behave impolitely to the Crown Prince... Put it aside... Once you gain the Title you are to inherit, he is who you will serve, Paul. Remember that."
"... Yes. I will have that in mind. I behaved unbecoming to my position... It could be the lack of rest that is making me act unlike usual."
Holding the gaze of his Father, Paul paused to the Duke’s sayings for a moment to answer as it was requested from him. Meanwhile on the dark inside of the disturbed man a determination much different was told.
’Never... No trace of his body is to be left. I won’t serve that one who keeps defiling my beloved sister... Marianne... my sister Marianne... my... Marianne...’
"Marianne... It is good she came back healthy." — Paul lastly said. — "You too Father... It is delectable to have you back where our Family belongs."
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