A cold winter day.
Snow had fallen during the night, creating a white desert on earth.
Atop a short hill, there was a manor. Below, there was a village.
A young man was outside the manor, wearing a brown fur coat.
Sitting on a tree stump, he observed the village below.
"It looks warm," his voice was quiet, like a thin breeze in this cold winter.
The village below was full of orange-yellow lights.
Looking back, the manor had similar lights.
"So cold, so, so cold." He whispered.
The crescent moon above shone with a silver light.
"Cel, where are you? Cel! Cel!" a young woman called out from the edge of the manor, her expression one of annoyance.
Hearing the voice, Cel knew what was coming.
Like an animal that was called back into the stable, he walked back.
But just as he did so, he felt his feet hit something on the ground.
Stumbling forward, he fell into the snow.
He made no sound as he tried to stand up on his own.
Looking at the ground, he saw what had stumbled him.
A trembling rabbit, with white fur and red eyes, was lying on the ground. It kept its four legs together, trying to warm itself in the cold snow.
Cel looked at it questioningly.
Instinctively, he reached out.
His hands left the warmth of his coat, revealing pure white hands, those of someone who had never entered the sun.
He wore no gloves, with a touch, he was able to directly feel the cold yet soft fur of the rabbit.
Reaching with his second hand, he hugged the rabbit.
"Cel!" the voice from before came again, this time even louder.
"I am here," Cel said as he walked back with the rabbit in hand.
When he arrived at the manor entrance, he saw the beautiful lady.
She was fair, wearing a white fur coat and gloves made of silk.
"I called you so many times, why didn't you come directly?
Also, why did you leave?
I told you many times, don't go out!"
She scolded, her face carrying a deep frown.
Cel kept his head low as he listened.
"Tsk, every time I tell you this, you still do it. Go in, your father called for dinner."
Perking up slightly, Cel entered.
The woman looked at the rabbit in his hand but didn't comment.
Walking into the manor, he saw an elderly man wearing a coat, about to walk out.
"Bran, I told you many times. Don't let the young master leave." The woman said off-handedly when she looked at the butler.
"I'm apologizing, madam, for my mistake!" the butler apologized profusely as the woman walked off.
Turning to the young master, his gaze softened and he sighed, "Master called for dinner earlier today, so I wasn't able to get you in sooner.
One of the maids told her that you were out…"
"It's fine." Cel shook his head slightly.
Raising his hands, he revealed the rabbit, "Take it to my room and put it in blankets."
Bran looked at the rabbit. His face revealed a look of confusion, yet at the same time, he also felt happy.
If his young master had a small pet, maybe he wouldn't think so much of the master's negligence?
He took the rabbit to his young master's room before rushing to the dinner room.
Cel had already been seated by the time he arrived.
Gesturing to the servants, Bran led them to serve dinner.
The sound of cutlery could be heard, but the food wasn't the noble dinner one would expect.
Instead, it was a light soup, some bread and two small pieces of meat served on the platter of the master and madam of the house.
Cel ate the lightest.
During dinner, his father, a middle-aged man with a pot belly, focused entirely on the beautiful woman next to him.
The woman on the other hand focused on the cutlery.
Her hands were slow, her choice of cutlery questionable.
Just as she was trying to cut the meat with a short knife, she suddenly slipped.
One of her hands, resting on the table where it wasn't supposed to be, suddenly became the victim of this knife.
It cut her backhand, creating a thin line.
A small drop of blood formed on her fair skin.
"Oh my darling, come here, let me clean this for you!" Cel's father stood up, taking a napkin to clean the wound.
Looking sternly at the servants to the side, he started scolding, "Can't you see the madam struggling? Her hands are fair and she doesn't have the strength to cut meat. You should have done it for her!"
He ignored the fact that just moments ago, he was enjoying the woman's struggle.
Cel kept his head on his plate. Having seen this happen several times, he wasn't interested.
Raising it slightly to see his father's face, he saw something else.
A drop of ruby.
His vision blurred slightly as his eyes focused entirely on the blood.
It looked like a crystal made of the finest material.
He let go of his simple iron spoon.
Cling
A sound was heard as it fell on the table.
His father looked over with a face of anger, "Scelus Nex, have I taught you nothing? You even fail to hold simple cutlery?" his voice became even more agitated as he talked.
"You are an embarrassment to the five generations of the Nex family!" he continued to scold.
Lowering his gaze again, Cel didn't glance from the corner of his eye at the napkin.
The drop of crystal clear red became darker when it was cleaned.
A feeling of regret appeared in his heart.
If his father hadn't scolded him, would he have been able to snatch the napkin, letting the blood seep out further?
As he glanced over again, he saw that the hand wasn't bleeding anymore.
A single drop was all this wound had offered.
Lingering desire spread in his mind.