"Are you listening?"
"… I am. Yet what you say is common. A little sister is sweet to her brother. A natural thing—"
"She's the sweetest to me. We love each other."
"… son… that is a delusion of yours." — In a desperate wish to help his son see the truth, Orland softly told him. — "Your sister did love you but not like you believe. These doings you have committed now scare her, Paul."
"…"
"You understand this right? What you did hurt her instead, Paul."
"His grace is the delusional one." — Unfazed, he replied. — "You cannot accept that her heart is mine. You keep trying to sell her to those of the crown. She has told me so many times how she loves me and wants me by her side yet you stand in the way like a curse itself."
Closing in, the disturbance in Paul's insides was infected to Orland with rejection. A tight growl released a strong and ragged breath. Permitting his sound to calm the very air in morbid stillness. — "… Father. This grief I feel is your fault."
"…"
