Alden tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "…Too much care makes you anxious?"
Melchior didn't answer, but the warning glare he shot Alden was sharp enough to slice through steel.
Alden only clicked his tongue softly.
This cousin of his… he had known his only family, his beloved taken away right before his eyes, the loss, and eighty years of disappearance.
Of course caring too much would terrify him.
Melchior finally waved him away with a curt flick of his fingers.
Alden let out a breath and straightened. "Fine, fine. I'll go. I need to get fitted for my outfit anyway."
He left the room, leaving Melchior alone with his papers—and the soft sound of autumn wind brushing against the windows, where a silver-haired boy laughed under a tree below.
---
