"Your father and mother are no longer with us. Longing for them further will be unproductive and hinder your chances of success, child," he said, his words lacking any sense of empathy towards Xyriel and his deceased parents.
"*Hic-* But, Uncle -"
"Do not address me as 'uncle'! Show respect and use my title, Xyriel," he scolded.
Just as Xyriel was about to apologize, Duke Arthur didn't wait to hear his words. He promptly turned away, cutting off any chance for further conversation.
"Follow me, we shall return to the mansion," he said sternly.
As they walked, Xyriel pondered whether to hold Duke Arthur's hand or not. He was accustomed to grasping the hands of those he cared for, especially in unfamiliar places.
Attempting to reach out and take Duke Arthur's hand, Xyriel was met with a forceful hand against his face, causing him to tumble onto the muddy grass. The Duke regarded him with disdain.
"Never touch me without my consent, you filthy boy!" he scolded.
