Santino was meant to visit him empty-handed.
Erawada could have taken care of him—he was her son after all, but she was prohibited from seeing him. For three years now, she has never glimpsed her son, nor has Draven seen even a reflection of her.
Erawada had only been relying on Santino, who was available to tell her about the everyday condition of his son.
"Young master, are you alright?" Santino could not hide the fact that he was holding in his tears. He tucked Draven's hair behind his ear and helped him up into a sitting position.
"Santino…" Draven's voice was hoarse. He had not had a sip of water or a sip of blood for three days now. He felt dry and as though he would lose his consciousness.
"Where is my mother? You said…you said she would come see me today…" His words were not quite audible, but Santino was able to catch onto them.
