Chapter 2 - A Custodian and A heir

After what felt like an eternity, the boy finally broke the silence.

"Good morning, young miss," he greeted, his tone polite yet firm, as if he expected her full attention. Sophia, still reeling from the sudden confrontation, barely registered his words. She was caught off guard, her thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of confusion and anxiety.

The boy's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing her ignorant attitude.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a silent shrill.

"It's been a while, Lady Sophia Sagittarius," he continued, his words cutting through her daze. "I am Aris von Frez, the first son and heir to my late father, Aris von Frez."

Sophia's breath was caught in her throat at the mention of her name. It had been so long—too long—since anyone had called her that. Questions flooded her mind, each one more urgent than the last. Who was this boy? How did he know her name? And why did he call her "Lady"? What did he have to do with her?

Before she could voice her confusion, Aris spoke again, his tone as if singing amusement. "I know you must have a thousand questions, Lady Sophia, but there are a few things I must do, no matter the cost." His words were steady, and as he spoke, he moved ever closer, taking the seat directly beside her.

Sophia felt a surge of nervousness, but she managed to keep her voice steady as she responded, "Good sir, I don't think we've ever met." Her words came out in a soft, almost hesitant hush, betraying the uncertainty she felt.

Aris's gaze remained fixed on her; his expression unwavering. "Not in the slightest, Lady Sophia. But who wouldn't want to introduce himself to the daughter of the late Lord Arnold Bard?"

At the sound of that name, a cold shiver ran through Sophia's entire body, and her skin prickled with goosebumps. The mere mention of Arnold Bard sent a wave of dread crashing over her, memories she had fought to bury resurfacing with a vengeance. She couldn't believe that after all these years, she would be forced to hear that name again—the name of the one person she despised more than anything in the world.

Sophia's thoughts spiraled further, but she struggled to focus on Aris or his intentions. All she wanted, with an intensity that bordered on desperation, was to rid her mind of that cursed name, to erase the memory of Arnold Bard from her consciousness forever. Yet, in this moment, this boy named Aris had unwittingly brought those buried memories crashing back, derailing any chance she had of keeping them at bay.

"If not for me, then at least for yourself," Sophia began, her voice low as she glanced around the tram, trying to keep her composure. "Please, don't ever utter that name again." She spoke coldly.

She could feel her anger bubbling beneath the surface of her skin, and without giving Aris a chance to respond, she continued. "Even in times of extreme illness, that man chose to chase after myths, abandoning his own family. If you think I'll ever glorify that name, you're sorely mistaken." Her words were sharp, cutting through the air with the intent to wound, to make him understand that whatever reverence he held for Arnold Bard was not shared by her.

But before Aris could speak, Sophia struck again, her voice trembling with fury. "You may be just another fool chasing after myths, just like that unmentionable person. The very sight of you disgusts me, makes me sick to my core. So, with whatever humility you claim to possess, I ask you to leave me be, Good Sir."

Her words were harsh, almost cruel, as she tried to wrest back control of her own feelings. But instead of retreating, Aris simply smiled, his expression infuriatingly calm.

"It seems you have the same sharp tongue as your unmentionable friend," Aris remarked, unfazed by her barrage. "After all, don't they say that 'an apple doesn't fall far from the tree?'"

Sophia's anger flared, her eyes blazing with a heat that matched the rising intensity of her emotions. She glared at him; her gaze sharp enough to cut through the very air between them. Her hot, red eyes bore into him, her anger bursting as she fought to keep from unleashing the full force of her wrath.

For a moment, it seemed as though she might lash out, might say something that could push Aris away for good. But she caught herself, clinging to the last shreds of her composure. She knew that if she let her emotions get the best of her, she would only be playing into his hands, falling into whatever trap he had set.

"I would much appreciate it if you returned to your original seat, Good Sir Aris," she said through gritted teeth, her voice laced with barely concealed hostility.

But Aris, as if he had anticipated her every move, remained unfazed. He could see that despite her best efforts, Sophia was struggling to maintain control, her anger seething just below the surface of her skin. He knew that in this moment, she was teetering on the edge, and all it would take was a single push to tip her over.

But instead of pressing further, he simply nodded, his smile never wavering. "As you wish, Lady Sophia," he said, his tone polite but with a hint of amusement. He then rose from his seat and making way back to seat; stopping mid-way just to give a last talk to Sophia and her regard for her so called unmentionable person.

"Considering your isolation from 'our' society, it's understandable that you dismiss our myths as mere stories, concocted to deceive the weak-minded," Aris remarked, his tone measured but probing. He was fishing for a reaction, hoping to coax some kind of response from Sophia.

On the other hand, Sophia was doing everything she could to ignore him. Her mind buzzed with the overwhelming desire to escape—to shut her ears, close her eyes, and seal her lips.

She longed for her usual, uneventful tram ride to school, surrounded by the comfort of routine and anonymity. But today was different—everything about it felt wrong, out of place.

No matter what Aris said, Sophia had resolved not to answer, not to engage with him at all. She had already seen enough to know that this person was no different from the man who once called himself her father.

"Lady Sophia… or should I say, Lady Sagittarius," Aris continued, his voice steady and unyielding. "If you were to ask me where my loyalty lies, I would give you a simple answer: the Custodian Order of the Black Lily." His eyes widened as he spoke, the pupils shifting into an unnatural, snow flake shape.