She subconsciously straightened up with her hands clasped in front of her and appears to not know what to say for a while. But as she didn't want to stay any longer, she answered truthfully. "Sir Ron has gone already, young master."
Cale's abnormally white and chapped lips moved, a moment later they heard him ask. "Where to?"
"I apologize young master, but I do not know exactly where they- "
"Nevermind that, just tell him to come here after he returns," Cale spoke, cutting her off.
"I-I don't think that would be possible, young master." she stuttered.
Cale hadn't shown any changes in emotions even with the maid's impertinence but when he heard those words, he glanced over her, with eyes that seemed colder than before.
Feeling the frosty gaze on her she sweat nervously and continued hastily. "Sir Ron and his son have left the manor, together with all of their belongings."
"We suspect that they wouldn't be returning anytime soon." her voice became thinner as she spoke.
From the maid's position, she didn't see how he tightened his hold on the quilt, his mouth curved into an ironic smile as he have taken in her words and was left to wait anxiously for what he is about to say next.
Cale stiffly looked away and closed his eyes for a moment and didn't make it difficult for the maid and said. "Leave."
Hearing her dismissal, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as she hurried out, even forgetting to courtesy before leaving.
While Ron watched him quietly in return, his gaze was calm but complicated that even his son couldn't understand.
Hearing the door close, Cale slowly opened his eyes. Looking up at the ceiling, he let out a strange and bitter laugh.
Cale felt rather wronged, as though he was betrayed.
Knowing that he meant so much to Cale, to even cause grievances to him, Ron didn't know what to feel.
But it was not a feeling that he could easily brush off.
Ron's expression had suddenly turned grim as he felt a pang of guilt. In what way could he possibly not, when he knew for a fact that he has forsaken his young master.
Nevertheless, he wouldn't change anything.
At the same time, some memories crossed through his mind, the same memories that tormented him for life. It happened years ago but the pain and helplessness he felt were still fresh.
As if, it was forcefully embedded in his mind that he could still remember every detail of what happened, even until this day.
Perhaps it hurts so much, that he can't get himself to forget, no matter how hard he tried.
That's why when Choi han first came in the manor, having the same scent of 'Arm', the organization that slaughtered his family.
It took every will and control inside his body not to aim for his neck and strangle him with his bare hands or perhaps slash him with the knife that laid peacefully atop his cart, right there and then.
He did manage to get a hold of himself when he find out later on that very day, that Choi han had suffered the same ordeal. But of course, it still couldn't compare to what they've been through.
But Ron knew that Choi han shared the same sentiments with them and was aware that his hatred is no less. And that he wants retribution just the same as them.
Ron didn't want to admit it, but meeting Choi han is the same as finding the key to the door that could lead him to what he desired, doors he didn't even know existed.
He was an opportunity that he waited.
So when his son decided to follow that punk and sought revenge, even when he hadn't trusted Choi han fully, he didn't think twice about throwing everything else behind and followed them.
However, the main reason he left the Henituse household, it's not really because he finally had the chance for revenge that he craved.
That day he made that decision, not as an assassin who felt the thrill and the excitement of killing those bastards nor the man who lost his family and his home.
Ron made that choice as a father.
Because how could he stay there and live with comfort when he knew his only son was out there, together with some punk, and could die anytime.
When his wife's dying words were to protect their son as she was cruelly discarded away by those bastards in front of his eyes, never left his mind.
Along with the images of other members of their family dying as they flee in haste.
When it is the very reason why he forces himself to just forget everything, why he chose to relinquish his pride as an assassin and escape.
Stay hidden on the other side of the continent and not seek revenge in the first place.
And having said all that, he would still make the same decision.
And that is to abandon his duties and leave the Henituse household, even if it was the place that could guarantee their safety.
Because he chose Beacrox, his son.
Ron heard the shallow sound of pained grunts, which interrupted his thoughts.
He look up and saw Cale having a hard time getting up.
It is only natural for him, Cale had only just woken up and his body hasn't recovered yet and was still very weak from getting beaten.
When Cale manage to stand on his feet, he began to walk straight to the window. He raises his hand as he opens the curtain.
They were welcomed with beautiful scenery. The sky was painted with pale blue, the chirping sound of the bird coming from the nearby trees and the howling of the wind as they danced beautifully in the air.
It happen to look so serene, that even a sad person could be moved...
But not Cale.
Cale watched the outside with an indifferent gaze, his eyes appeared unfocused. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes shifted around the room.
The color of his room was primarily made up of white and red, with a touch of gold, and was furnished with high-priced furniture.
But if you look longer, the feeling of repression could be felt and could only be seen as dark and gloomy. No matter how big the room is, you would still suffer from suffocation.
The contrast was so strong, making the beautiful scenery they once complimented, appears only as taunting to him.
He slowly withdrew his hand, his arm falling by his side, the curtains naturally closing. His gaze remained distant as he proceeded to walk out of his room, barefoot.
The people focused their attention on Cale's every move, as he walked across the empty hall at a seemingly slow but heavy pace.
Some of them furrowed their eyebrows, their expression turned into displeasure as they notice something.
It is customary for a servant to stay somewhere close to their master, so they can be easier to reach.
Seeing that there are no servants, not even one, especially in a broad daylight, is the same as not acknowledging him as their master or the least is wanting to offend him.
While others didn't react that much. They felt that it was expected, considering Cale's temper and his constant tantrum, most of them would likely avoid this part of the manor.
But still, they don't tolerate such behavior.
A duty is a duty, just like Nobles who should never do as he pleases, a servant should never act just by his feelings.
Cale on the other hand didn't seem to realize. But to be precise, Cale was aware and choose to not care.
Suddenly, Cale abruptly stops in front of a door. They were curiously waiting for him to open it, as to where it would lead him.
Only Deruth and Ron had a look of recognition.
It was the chamber of the former Countess.
With trembling hands, Cale slowly turned the knob. Soon, they can hear the sound of rusty hinges as he opened the door.
The room was extremely spacious but was quite dim, the curtains were shut, leaving no gaps for the sunlight to peek through. Only the light coming from the door that Cale opened, illuminated the area.
Thick layers of dust and spider webs accumulated everywhere. Everything was covered with white sheets.
Making it apparent that the room had been neglected for quite some time and eventually led to this state.
The room was indeed left untouched for more than a decade, even when the Count never specifically forbade them to enter.
They didn't think about cleaning it either, as nobody resided it anymore and their masters never visited it.
Even until Violan became the new Countess.
Instead of taking over the room that was made specifically for only the Countess, Violan decided to occupy another room, even though it was smaller in comparison.
They ponder on his intentions of coming to this place when he should be staying in his room and resting.
Cale continue to walk inside, he unhurriedly approached the bed located beside the window.
He removed the white cloth that was covering the bed before sitting down on the edge of it. Cale looked downwards at the bed, his hand traveled around the duvet.
Releasing a sigh, he laid his body on the bed, subconsciously inhaling the faded scent as he buried his head against the pillow.
A low, gentle voice, rang across the quiet room. "Mother..." As soon as those words left his mouth, their gazes were replaced by sympathy and understanding.
Cale was seeking comfort.
Even with the bed being covered, it was still filled with dust.
But even still, it didn't faze Cale as he leaned his body closer.
It gave him some sort of warmth and familiarity. It made Cale feel comfortable... home, and prefer this one, more than the one he has in his room.
Cale suddenly opened his eyes and appears to be startled by something. He slowly sat up, his hand dragging a rather thick book from underneath the pillow.
He glanced at the cover, nothing but his mother's name, Jour was engraved on it.
He took a deep breath before opening it, they saw a drawing of an infant that was wrapped in a blanket, as petite arms held him in place.
Turning the page, the face of his father, Deruth was seen, but Cale's eyes lingered at the small writing in the corner that says "future husband."
He then opened it to another page once more and saw the image of his father, but was a lot younger, something was written once again. He subconsciously read out loud the words, "I have finally seen him, the man in my dreams."
Cale scoffed at the childishness of his mother but seemed to be fighting against a small smile as he imagined her writing, before turning it over to the next page.
However, his expression gradually turned into confusion as he looked at the next image. It was a woman clad in armor, with a sense of pride in her eyes.
The woman was very alike to Violan and at the same time, has his father's distinctive features.
They didn't have time to dwell on who it is anymore as they hear him whisper in astonishment as though he couldn't believe his eyes. "Lily?"
"Me?" Lily asked dumbfounded.
It was their turn to be surprised, they looked at the drawing of the woman and realized, it is indeed Lily, only a much older version of her.
"Impossible..." Cale muttered repeatedly as he let his hands flip over the pages.
Different sketches were seen.
Images of Cale, Violan, Basen, Lily, and even his father can be seen but mostly Cale.
From a younger version of Cale that was surrounded with stacks of books to Cale with a bottle of wine in his hand and with a few empty bottles scattered around the floor.
There is even a drawing of him when Choi han had beaten him.
Suddenly his hand that was about turn the page once again was put to a halt.
Cale's eyes trembled, his breathing hitched uncontrollably as he looked downwards.
"Y-You... Wha-" he cut himself off, unable to form any sentence.
He shook his head relentlessly. He, himself thought the idea alone was ridiculous.
As if someone is playing a cruel joke on him, making fun of him.
It was an image of a woman, lying on the muddied ground. With bruises adorned her body, her damp clothes sticking to her flesh like a second skin. They weren't sure if it was because of the rain or her blood.
The pain that he had always been trying to suppress, didn't want to be ignored anymore. Surging out from the pit of his heart as he recognized the woman.
It was his dead mother.
They can see different emotions flashed in his eyes as he desperately search for answers, reasons, anything but his mind went blank and nothing seemed to be enough.
He was feeling a lot, much more than he could take.
They hear the faint tremor in his voice as he asked in silence. "Why?"
And then, he broke.