His voice seethed with anger, icy and dangerous. "I am not a fool! I have already deciphered your implications. So, do not pretend otherwise," he whispered.
"I was merely attempting to awaken your senses, dear brother," she whispered back, her tone sweet and gentle. His face twisted into a sneer, disbelief evident in his eyes. It seemed as though he was on the verge of exploding, but she pressed on, still whispering, while using trembling arms to block his sword. "Just embrace the truth already."
"I am not ignorant, Briana. Father utterly despises Eveloria," he hissed, his voice dripping with disgust. Briana chuckled softly to herself and pushed forward, but Ambrose intensified the pressure of his blade against hers, causing her knees to weaken slightly. He leaned in close, their breaths mingling in the heavy air between them. Ambrose's expression darkened. "Never attempt such a trick on me again. Is that clear?"
She had no choice but to release the sword from her nerveless hands, letting it clatter loudly to the floor. He glared at her before storming off in anger, leaving her alone. Briana gazed at the sword beneath her feet for a moment, taking a deep breath before murmuring to herself, "It's frustrating that he's so resistant. But perhaps I have sown a seed of doubt in his mind." She smiled faintly, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. "That's always a promising first step," Briana murmured.
She picked up her sword, wiping away the dust from its surface, and placed it back into its sheath. Then, she followed after him, calling out, "Brother, wait, I apologize, please forgive me."
Ambrose paid no attention to the words spoken behind him, but he felt a slight easing of tension in his shoulders. He maintained his silence, quickening his pace as he continued on his way.
"I promise, brother, I will never deceive you again. You're my twin, and I cherish our bond," she called out, a smile etched on her face. Briana hurried to catch up, and Ambrose halted, crossing his arms impatiently over his chest. Once she reached him, he shot her an annoyed glance.
"You've lied," he asserted firmly, his words more of a statement than an accusation.
"No, I haven't. I truly mean it," Briana responded with a pout, her voice carrying a hint of defensiveness.
Ambrose's jaw twitched ever so slightly, but he chose to remain silent. They continued their journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Ambrose stole a glance at his sister and couldn't help but think, 'Honestly, it's hard to trust anything she says. It's not just her; even our mother's words lack reliability. They're cut from the same cloth, speaking one thing while their eyes reveal something entirely different.'
In that moment, a particular memory resurfaced, showcasing one of the countless instances where his mother had exhibited such behavior.
*Flashback*
He was just a six-year-old boy, innocently wandering down the corridor in search of his mother. Clutching a sketchbook in his small hands, a smile adorned his face, unaware of the distress that awaited him. Suddenly, the echoes of voices reached his ears, piercing through the silence of the corridor. It was the sound of a girl's anguished screams.
Intrigued and concerned, he followed the haunting cries, his small feet carrying him closer to the source. Eventually, he found himself standing before his mother's room, the door slightly ajar. Curiosity overwhelmed him, and he couldn't resist taking a peek inside.
What he witnessed was a scene of unimaginable cruelty. Three maids, their faces filled with determination, held Eveloria down on the bed. His heart sank as he saw his mother, her once-flowing hair now matted and drenched in sweat. With a cold and merciless gaze, she relentlessly lashed out at Eveloria, disregarding her pleas for mercy.
Tears streamed down Eveloria's face, leaving tracks on her cheeks, mingling with the mucus that dripped from her snotty nose. Every cry for respite only seemed to fuel his mother's fury, intensifying the assault. It was a sight that would forever be etched into his young mind, a memory he could never forget.
She whipped her again, and she cried harder as she felt the cold sting on her skin. She tried to move away, but the two maids held tight onto her waist, preventing her from moving, and continued to beat her. Her screams filled the room and echoed all over the Manor.
Ambrose always wondered why his mother does this every time to Eveloria?
He didn't understand, and he thought maybe if he asked, she would tell him. But he knew better than to ask. Instead, he quietly backed away.
As soon as she heard the creak of the door, his mother turned around. Seeing Ambrose standing in the doorway watching her with wide eyes as she whipped Eveloria, who writhed on the bed.
The look in her eyes softened as she dropped to whip and approached him. "Oh, darling," she said softly, "did you have fun with your sister today?"
He nodded vigorously. "Yes, I did!" He beamed as he took a step towards his mother. "What are you doing to Eveloria?" He asked, acting like he didn't understand what was going on.
His mother sighed, put out her arm to gently hold onto him and guiding him out of the room and closing the door.
His mother crouched down and looked into his eyes, a sad expression appeared as she spoke softly to him. "Ambrose, darling. What I do is none of your business." His face puckered up in protest but the sadness remained as his mother continued, "Just act like you didn't see anything."
"But what you're doing to her looks bad..." He said, pointing to the prone figure on the bed. "Why can't you just stop hurting her, mother?"
His mother cupped his cheek and stroked his skin tenderly before speaking. "Sweetheart, you don't understand. Eveloria did something bad and I'm punishing her."
'You're lying, mother.' He thought silently as he stared up at his mother, searching for any hint of dishonesty in her face, and he saw it, in her eyes. He looked away and kept quiet as he let his mother stroke his cheek with her thumb. She then picked him up, hugging him as he held onto her tightly. "Why did you come here? Were you looking for me?"
He nodded against her shoulder. "Yes, I came to find you," he replied, "I wanted to show you something."
His mother nodded knowingly, "Okay, show me."
He handed her the sketchbook and gestured for her to see how far he'd gotten. She gave him a small smile, took the sketchbook from his hand.
"Mother is very busy right now; I will check it later, okay." She smiled and kissed him goodbye.
"Go play or eat something, I'll call you when I'm done." She said as she let him down and turned to open the door.
Ambrose nodded and watched her close the door.
Once she was done, she meticulously checked through his sketchbook and stumbled upon drawings of their entire family, including Eveloria. Upon inspection, she expressed her adoration for his artwork and expressed a desire to keep them close. Ambrose's heart swelled with joy, and he dedicated himself to creating new drawings for her every single day. However, his happiness was short-lived when he inadvertently stumbled upon one of his cherished creations amidst a pile of papers being consumed by flames, tended to by one of his mother's maids.
From that moment onward, Ambrose's artistic endeavors came to a halt, and a seed of doubt took root within him. He began questioning every word uttered by his mother, for her actions seemed devoid of any discernible reason or motive.
*Flashback ends*