1.10 The Start Of A Small Tear

"What?"

Calix furrowed his brows, narrowing his gaze to the mage that sat before him. His name was Dan, a mid-level mage who was tasked to report back to the first lord of the second dukedom for the letter Calix had sent for the High Priest. Dan shamelessly rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning to the backrest of the green velvet canapé inside Calix's office. He then lifted a hand and waved it as if dismissing the words of the Lanchaster heir.

"There was no reply. That's it," he harshly spoke, annoyance evident in his tone. Dan then whispered to himself but it was decipherable enough for everyone in the room to hear. "Making me repeat myself. Why can't he understand?"

Calix raised his palm to stop his knights when they were to draw their swords. There was no use for a confrontation. Subjects of Monrell hold the same line of thought with their masters. Calix won't stoop to their level to make them snap out of their pitiful mindsets. He will bring back the dukedom to the top and that will humiliate them enough.

Without uttering a word, he eyed one of the knights to usher the mage out of the estate. The dame nodded then guided Dan to leave. The mage simply huffed, muttering complaints about how disrespectful it was for a woman to escort him.

Calix licked his lower lip and internally grinned. But then again, no one said about not bringing the ball back every once in a while. "A moment," he spoke which halted their movements.

He walked towards Dame Kiesha and leaned over to whisper, "Another degrading word from him and you're free to act as you wish." Calix then let out a smirk before adding, "Keep it clean if you do so."

Dame Kiesha grinned back in return.

"Pardon for the delay. Just making sure you'll have a safe journey." Calix feigned a polite smile, mischief hidden in the dazzle of emerald eyes. Although suspicious, Dan stiffly nodded and followed the dame.

"What should we do, My Lord?" Azra, his closest aide questioned once the door shut. Calix took time with his answer, quietly walking back to his chair as he pondered.

The High Priest refused to respond to their calls even though the message spoke of Nero. How ironic for someone who constantly stressed about the welfare of the empire but won't even bat an eye to the claimed reason for the future downfall.

Calix then eyed the couch the mage had unceremoniously plopped himself into. Silence stretched even longer as Calix suddenly took a piece of paper and quickly jotted down a note. He stood up, subtly passed the note to Azra as he walked towards the canapé.

"Let's keep quiet for now," he continued his act, eyeing the empty letter given to him by the mage on the surface of the console table. Unseen by the naked eye was faint black mist swirling around the letter.

He picked it up, feeling the texture until he touched a very small bump by the edge. Using his index finger, he carefully took out a small piece of a magical rune sneakily snuck inside the envelope. Calix spun and presented the grain-sized magical item. Azra, having read the note and seen the rune, stiffly nodded and immediately bowed down.

"As you wish, My Lord." He straightened his posture. "Then, shall we talk about the trade with the Vermont?"

An hour later, Dame Kiesha came back and Calix smirked at the sight of a new clean glove on her hand.

Time passed by more as he finished signing the documents stacked on his table. He was in the middle of handling the offer of a mine field when the door burst open revealing his brother, hair disheveled, hitched breaths and a distraught expression.

"Father!" Simone yelled and that was enough for Calix to spring from his seat, leave his work, and ran to the duchess' palace. He mentally cursed. Calix was so focused on the well-being of his mother and siblings that he forgot about the problem with their father.

At the duchess' parlor.

"But not her."

A suffocating silence and a stiff walk-out was the reply given to Nero. He raised his brow, watching the retreating figure of the duke until he was nothing but a blurry dot on the hallway.

Heavy footsteps then echoed in the place as his two brothers came barreling inside the parlor. They were chasing their breath. Why they decided to suddenly have a marathon, Nero didn't ask.

Calix surveyed the area and for someone looking for something, he looked ironically relieved that he couldn't find it. Simone, on the other hand, was frantically charging towards them.

"Mother! Nero!"

"Are you guys alright? Did he do something-"

The onslaught of worried inquiries from the second lord was cut off by Nero as the youngest lord shoved a drinking glass to the other's face, tipping the cup towards the other's open mouth.

As insensitive as it was, Nero was just too tired dealing with their foolish father so he had no energy to properly ease his sibling's distress.

"Shut up and drink." He emphasized each word, exploiting the menacing aura of the original Nero Lanchaster. Simone blinked like a lamb and quietly obliged. His calm disposition broke off not too long after, once he had tasted the beverage.

"Woah, this is refreshing." Nero was close to diagnosing his second brother as bipolar with the way he changes his emotions. Such fickle feelings.

Simone lifted the glass and marveled at the color of the cool beverage under the filtered sunlight. "This is delicious. What is this?"

"Urine," Nero answered immediately.

"Nero!" Duchess Mirae scolded him while some of the servants stifled their chuckles.

Simone loosened his grip in shock but Nero expected such grand reaction and easily caught the drink, bringing it back to Simone's hand as the second lord gaped at him like a caught fish.

"Urine!" Simone parroted with much more intensity and Nero nonchalantly nodded, patting his brother's shoulder.

"Yes, dear brother. More reasons for you to drink it, right?" Besides, it was payback to all the teasing he had been receiving.

Outside, a butterfly with a dashing color of wine red fluttered by the glass walls. It flapped it wings continuously until it was outside the vicinity of the vast Lanchaster estate.

To a forest it went, wings suddenly beaming a bright hue as its size grew larger.

It was a human who had shifted to a butterfly.

Naked, they walked to a bush and took out a worn-out satchel. Once they had wrapped their exposed body with the clothes stuffed inside the bag, they tilted their head to look at the visible mansion of the Lanchasters.

They smirked.

"What a surprise, master."