Sylvester remained silent, trying to think how his secret had come out. 'Did Xavia send him the word? No, she's not that foolish, not anymore.'
"Who sent you?" He asked.
"Your father, your highness. I am Zhoron Gilgwyn. I work as a Royal aide to your family. We are ordered to bring you back with respect and care." Zhoron bowed his head with respect.
But Sylvester could see further than what was on the surface. 'He may be obliged to act respectfully with me, but his innate disgust towards my 'tainted' blood is clear. The sharp smell of rotten eggs is strong with this one.'
Sylvester tapped the shoulders of Sir Dolorem and Augustus as they stood in front of him, trying to shield him from any attacks. Then, he turned around and whispered at the Spirit of the Forest, Mirnor.
'Alright! Let's do this.'
"Don't you despise me? A half-blood like me must infuriate you." Sylvester asked the elven man.
