The hot temperatures brought by summer do not help warm the chilling moments Ndulou is currently experiencing.
Everyone stiffened at just one word.
"K-kuya?" Ndulou tried to repeat the word in order to clarify what he believed he had misheard.
He tightens his grip on the shoulder of Ernesto but he keeps his mouth shut after calling him brother. He wanted to hear again what Ernesto said, but he was just there, staring blankly at the lord of the territory.
The hall became quiet.
Everyone's expressions became weird, but most of them showed their curiosity, including the maids and knights.
Ndulou anxiously moved his eyes away from the lord and the people around him and complained internally, "How come this jerk addresses me as his older brother?"
K u y a
"How many brain cells does this jerk have to spew this nonsense?"
Ndulou frowned and hoped the Marquis wouldn't misunderstand.
Rather, he hoped that this conversation would not come out of this castle.
Rumors are quite scary and deadly.
Ndulou just wanted to act like he was following his father's order to get close to Ernesto, but he never wanted to actually be close to him. He just followed his father's order every time he asked him to visit the marquis' castle. He never actually interacted with the Marquis's son.
Ernesto despised him, so he usually sent Ndulou out to the garden or the lobby alone.
"I never wanted to be associated with this punk. I know this one fact: Ernesto's name can also be spelled as trouble. Who in their right mind wants to acquaint themselves with such trash? Well, unless you are desperate."
Ndulou continues to grumble internally. He thought it would be better if he just continued to loiter around the castle and no one bothered him.
"Haaaaaaa—"
They heard a long sigh from the Marquis.
Marquis Jose Oliva looked like a sturdy wall while firmly standing at the second step of the stairs, which made Ndulou look up to him.
He stared at the appearance of the lord, which he rarely encountered. Although he frequently visits the Marquis Castle, the lord himself is hard to meet because of his busy schedule.
The Marquis is confident but often wears a scowl on his face. He is an older-looking man with curly white hair and a beard. As the lord of a wealthy territory, he wore attire that included a purple robe with white fur on the edges and jewels adorning it.
In Ndulou's opinion, Jose Oliva looked unapproachable and condescending.
Jose sighed quietly again as he pressed his hand to his temple on one side.
He stepped down from the stairs and walked closer to the two, but Ernesto stepped back and shooed his father out.
It made Ndulou awkwardly move his feet, signaling Ernesto that he should let him down, but he held Ndulou a little tighter.
He thought, "What is wrong with this punk? What is he planning?"
"You are Baron Miyano's son, right?" Jose asked.
Jose Oliva refocused his gaze on Ndulou and scanned the pale face of the baron's son.
Even without seeing the baron's child, Marquis Oliva knows the child very well. As the fifth son of a poor family, the fifteen-year-old child is visibly skinny and typically wears simple clothes repetitively.
Jose was also aware of Baron Miyano's astute ambitions, which used his children to get connections to other wealthy nobles.
Marquis Jose Oliva knew about the baron's schemes but continued to invite the child to the castle, while others thought the Marquis was only being generous and pitied Ndulou.
Jose's eyebrows twitched once he saw the color of the Ndulou's neck. It was like bruises that turned the entire neck of Ndulou darkish-blue.
Unaware of his own condition, Ndulou thought that the twitching of Jose's eyebrows was from annoyance. He hurriedly fixed his back as soon as he realized that he had forgotten the mandatory greeting.
"G-greetings, Marquis Oliva. I am Baron Miyano's fifth son, Ndulou Miyano." He gracefully bowed his head and gave an awkward greeting while still at the back of Ernesto.
"It seems like this punk has no plan to put me down. Is he flexing his broad shoulders because he is showing off how he can carry me for such a long time?" Ndulou was protesting internally until he stopped because of the sudden sense of chill tingling at the back of his neck. Jose Oliva was staring at him as if he were an experimental insect.
Marquis Oliva's stifling aura was making Ndulou nauseous. He did not know where to look, so he stared at the Marquis's hair instead, but even his funny, curly white hair became intimidating to him.
Ndulou returned his gaze to Jose's face and observed the wrinkles that show his age.
The Marquis is much older than Ndulou's father.
"I guess he is in his 50s now. He reminds me more of my grandfather." Ndulou roughly guessed the marquis' age.
Ndulou feels bad for him because he has a psychotic son. Based on what he heard in the stories around the territory, the Marquis and the late Marchioness waited so long to have their first child.
Unfortunately, their only child is quite problematic.
"It looks like my son has gone wild again. I apologize for this." Jose Oliva was about to bow his head in apology, but Ndulou waved his hands to stop him.
"No! No, sir! He actually saved me. He choked me, though he-" that slipped out of Ndulou's mouth after he nervously cut off the Marquis's statement.
"He choked you?"
As a lot of wrinkles appeared on Jose's face, he stared at his son angrily. The surrounding people also whispered.
"No! It is not his fault! I was like, Aaah, the fingernails!! I was trying to st-No! What do I mean is..."
Ndulou could not properly explain what happened because he was too nervous.
The father-son aura was suffocating Ndulou, which made it hard for him to think straight.
Suddenly, Ernesto shakes him up to get him to adjust his back. He was slowly sliding down because he was panicking.
"Father, call a physician. I'll be taking him to our guest room."
Ndulou was flabbergasted by the way Ernesto had bluntly ordered his father to get a physician.
Jose appeared to be used to his child's rude behavior and simply motioned to his assistant to call a doctor.
The assistant bowed down to the lord before leaving. Jose Oliva turned his attention back to his son and crossed his arms.
"Son, I think you need a detailed explanation of this situation."
Ernesto just responded with a short nod. The marquis then looked at Ndulou and said, "Also, I'll be speaking to you, Ndulou Miyano." The marquis' profound voice feels like thunder accompanies it.
"Am I in trouble?"