We shouldn't be doing this
The arrival of Alistair had just been what Tristan had expected.
"Father," Tristan said formally, bowing slightly.
Alistair looked down on him with contemptuous eyes. His father wore a black robe with gold trimming. It was simple attire compared to the extravagant robes he usually wore, but it still carried the same level of wealth.
His hair was jet black, and his skin was pale. A small scar ran along the right side of his mouth. There were no signs of wrinkles or age lines anywhere else on his body. His eyes were cold and lifeless. They bore into Tristan with disdain but also held a hint of sadness.
Seraphina stood still beside Alistair. Unlike him, she wasn't dressed in lavish clothing. Instead, she wore a white dress that covered most of her figure. Her red hair was tied back tightly, and her green eyes reflected the sun.