Meanwhile, in the forbidden mansion within the inner palace…
"You wouldn't want to make an enemy against Wrath."
Sunny was sitting on the armchair near the bed, flinging her legs back and forth. She was hugging her stuffed bunny, rubbing her little fingers against its drooping ears. There wasn't a single candelabra that was lit in the room, but the moonlight filtering through the window was enough for her to see.
"Sunny is not making an enemy against my grandpa," she explained with an odd combination of an innocent yet decisive voice. She snapped her doe eyes ever so tenderly, setting them on the man on the bed.
There, a middle-aged man was leaning against the headboard. His arm was resting over his bent knee, his hair falling past his shoulders.
The man looked at the window. "Still… he is being consumed with anger."
"It's not Sunny's fault." Sunny kept her eyes on the window.
