"Mikael! What are you doing sitting over there scoffing to yourself? Come to your wife's side!" Lord Cain's voice booms across the chamber, filled with impatience and authority. His presence dominates the room, his fiery hair and golden skin glowing in the dim light of the flickering torches. He strides forward, his eyes narrowing as he regards his son with a mixture of frustration and expectation.
"She's not my wife, father! I refuse to accept that, and I'm fine right here." Mikael's voice is steady, though it carries an undercurrent of pain. He remains seated in the far corner of the chamber, his posture rigid with defiance. His light blue eyes, filled with both sorrow and resolve, lock onto his father's. "I've seen it once already; I don't need to see it again. I'm just here to make sure you don't hurt my child."
Lord Cain's expression shifts, a shadow of something darker passing over his face. "Hurt your child? What could you possibly mean? I could never hurt my own grandchild." His tone is almost mocking, as if the very idea is absurd.
"You say that, but it's still a mystery what happened to our other child." Mikael's voice rises, trembling with barely restrained emotion. "You took him away to be tested by that shady monk, and then he came back saying it was a failure. You claim you had him sent away, but you won't tell me where. I can only assume he's dead and that you had him killed!"
The accusation hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, even the crackling of the torches seems to hush in the wake of Mikael's words. Lord Cain's eyes flash with anger, but there's a deeper hurt that flickers within them, almost imperceptible. "Mikael, how dare you make such hurtful accusations? As I told you then and I'll tell you again now, I had him sent to another family to be cared for. You two were only just married, and at 14 you weren't ready to raise a child alone. Since he was born as a normal human, I couldn't let him stay here amongst us demons, and so I had him sent to a reliable human family. Be grateful!"
"Grateful?" Mikael repeats, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. "You want me to be grateful? How can I be grateful when you sent my child away without even consulting us first? I'm sure Remy could care less, but I…" He falters, his throat tightening as tears well in his eyes. "I would've been willing to raise him! I was young, but I still could have. You didn't give me a chance. I'll never forgive you for that, and I won't let you do that again to this child. I swear it!"
As the tears spill over, Mikael turns his face away, his heart aching with the memory of the son he never got to hold. The room seems to close in around him, the weight of his grief and anger pressing down until he feels he might suffocate. But then, breaking through the suffocating tension, the unmistakable cry of a newborn fills the air.
His head snaps around, eyes wide with sudden realization. A maid stands near the bed, her face lit with a gentle smile as she wipes the tiny, wriggling form of a newborn. "It's a boy!" she announces, her voice bright with joy.
Mikael's breath catches in his throat, the anger and sorrow momentarily forgotten. He had been so consumed by his argument with his father that he hadn't even noticed Remy had begun to birth the baby. Everything had happened so quickly, and now, in the midst of all the turmoil, he felt a rush of pure, unadulterated happiness. "I want to hold him," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.
The maid approaches, carefully placing the newborn in Mikael's trembling arms. As he gazes down at his son, a sense of awe washes over him. The baby's tiny features, his soft, pale skin, and the faintest wisp of white hair on his head—Mikael knows at that moment that this child is the most precious thing he has ever known. He never had the chance to hold his first son, but now, with this child cradled in his arms, he swore he'd never let him go.
But just as he is enveloped in this newfound joy, the sound of excited chatter from the maids pulls his attention back to the bed. He looks up to see Remy pushing once again, her face contorted with effort.
"Good, my lady, just a bit more," one of the midwives encourages, her voice steady but filled with anticipation. After several more intense pushes, another cry pierces the room. "It's another boy!" the maid exclaims, her face alight with excitement.
Mikael's heart swells with disbelief and overwhelming joy. "Let me hold him too," he says, his voice filled with wonder. He gently takes his second son into his other arm, his heart nearly bursting with love and protectiveness. Ever since the loss of their first child, they had struggled to conceive again. But now, after six long years, they had not one but two sons. The joy he feels in this moment is almost too much to bear. He feels as if he could die happy right now, content in the knowledge that his sons are safe in his arms.
However, this moment of pure bliss is short-lived. Laurent, the family's personal monk, steps forward, his expression unreadable as he approaches. "Young Master, if I may," he says, extending his hands toward the infants.
Mikael's protective instincts flare up, and he instinctively pulls his sons closer. "Why? I won't let you take them this time," he says, his voice edged with fear.
"Calm yourself, Mikael," Lord Cain interjects, his tone firm but with a veneer of reassurance. "He's just going to inspect them and determine their potential. He'll give them back."
Mikael hesitates, his heart pounding as he looks between his father and Laurent. But the stern, unyielding look in his father's eyes leaves him with no choice. Reluctantly, he hands his sons over to the monk, his heart aching with the fear of what might happen next.
Laurent places the infants on a soft surface, his hands hovering over their foreheads and then their chests, his brow furrowing in concentration. After a tense moment, he looks up at Lord Cain, who has stepped closer, his expression expectant. "So, what's your analysis?" Lord Cain asks, his voice tinged with both curiosity and anticipation.
"I can sense great potential from this one on the right," Laurent begins, his tone reverent. "I'm certain he's the one we've been looking for. I've never felt a soul so purely evil before. He will definitely be our Supreme Demon Lord."
Lord Cain's eyes gleam with pride as he looks down at his grandson. "And the other? What are your readings from him?"
Laurent hesitates, casting a nervous glance at Mikael before returning his gaze to Lord Cain. "I'm not sensing anything from him. It's as though he has no Junsui energy. Although slightly different, it feels as though he's the same as… as the first one."
Mikael's heart drops as the realization hits him. "Are you saying he's also human? He's not a Junsui like us?"
"It would appear so," Laurent confirms, his voice heavy with regret. "This is quite troublesome. I know I promised you, son, but I'll have to send—"
"No!" Mikael's voice cuts through the air, filled with desperation. "You're not going to send this one away too. I won't let you!" He turns to Remy, his eyes pleading. "Say something too!"
Remy looks up from the bed, her expression one of sheer boredom. "What's there to say? He's a weak human, and so he's worthless."
Mikael stares at her in astonishment, his heart breaking at her coldness. "You truly are evil, aren't you?" he whispers, his voice trembling with disbelief. She just laughs, a cruel, mirthless sound that chills him to the bone.
Turning away in disgust, Mikael faces his father, his resolve hardening. "I'll leave then. I'll leave and bring him with me. I'll raise him on my own."
"Don't be a fool, Mikael," Lord Cain replies, his tone turning sharp. "He's human. He'd die long before you, and most importantly, you have to think of your other son. He needs his father to grow up to be the man he's destined to be. So I'm sorry, but this is just the way it is. I'll be sure to find him a really nice family, just like your first son. It's the best thing for him, to be honest."
Mikael's fists clench, his body trembling with the urge to fight. But he knows the futility of it; he could never defeat his father. Swallowing his pride and rage, he forces himself to nod, his voice barely a whisper as he says, "I see, you're right. I'm sorry, father. Do as you wish."
Lord Cain smiles, satisfied with his son's apparent submission. "Good, now that's the type of sensibility I like to see." He turns to the maids. "Bring them to the nursery and care for them. I'll have Laurent fetch this one once I've made proper arrangements for a family to send him to. I'm going to take my leave. Remy, you've done a wonderful job. Your mother would be proud." Remy simply smiles, basking in his approval.
As Lord Cain prepares to exit the room, he turns to Mikael one last time. "I know you may hate me now, son, but you'll see it's for the best."
Mikael, his mind already made up, responds with a simple, "Yes, Father." But in his heart, he knows the truth. He will find a way to escape with his son. He won't let him be taken away again, even if he has to die trying.