Thinking about Alinar's smile in the darkness, an anger flashed in Ilodyer's black eyes.
His past is something that he buried deeply in his heart and he didn't want anyone to know about it.
Those humiliations, that sadness, and that helplessness, were best to be forgotten, the best to be buried deeply.
Alinar's actions were like reopening a barely healed wound, and watching it bleed.
Even after a hundred years, those unforgettable past, it's not something that can be touched by anyone—how weak he was to compromise with that world.
...
The morning sunlight once again gently illuminated Archades City, and the clock tower chimed melodiously.
Ilodyer descended the stairs slowly.
The Elven King continued to walk behind him, he still draped in a gray cloak.
"Good morning."
Alinar greeted as Ilodyer reached the landing of the second floor.
He saw him leaning against the staircase.
