“Cecille?”
At the mention of the name, Cedric de la Roche placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together like a tent as he bowed. Ralph and Isaac looked on in worry as well as fear, most especially since the atmosphere in the room only turned more oppressive.
It was summer but the temperature in the room was low, and was still dropping continuously by the second. Soon, the furniture began to be wrapped in white mist, while the glasses in the room, like the window, became foggy.
“Y-Young Master…”
“B-Boss…”
Ralph and Isaac called out simultaneously just as the water in the glass cylinder sitting on the table for the Young Master to drink began to freeze. Then, there was a snapping “click” sound before the water turned completely into ice, breaking the thin glass container.
“Young Master!” Both Ralph and Isaac desperately called Cedric’s attention before he froze everything in the room— them included.