As the Iwrin drove away after leaving his master his speed grew slower and slower as he wanted to return back to his cruel master .
Yet he would not able to see his master now.
On the other side, his master stood alone on a quiet pathway where no one could see him.
The first light of dawn touched his face ,his eyes were changing colour like they were remembering the hydrangea boy he met last time.
He started to walk with calm steps full of elegance.
Even with his tall legs, his steps were small, as if he wanted to return with the maximum count.
Things became unexpected when his calm figure grew even sadder as he changed his way from the straight path lined with towering trees to the river of red roses.
Ivaan's shirt began to stain red and carried the scent of his beloved lady, the one he often remembered these days.
He stood there alone, unseen by anyone.
Then he reached a hidden place within the roses , his secret hideout for escape, a small soft grassbed covered with rose petals.
He sat in the middle of the roses, his back straight, with his palms resting on the moist grass.
His fingers landed on a rose which was full of thrones , still he didn't felt any pain when he was lost in his thoughts.
A drop of his blood drained, yet he simply smelled the rose and slowly sank to the ground.
Above him, the clouds drifted gently, making him feel the quiet rotation of the earth.
Ivaan slowly closed his eyes, the skin beneath his eye got softened, which hecovered them with his forearm.
As he was ready to refuse to go because he felted he had no strength left to face another funeral or to hear the cries of Rudy's loved ones.
The thought of enduring more deaths, the ones yet to come in Darkskin, was beyond question.
Time seemed to stop around him as he drifted into sleep.
The winter sunlight was the best comfort for his restless mind; the butterflies fluttering nearby felt like a gentle massage, and the scent of roses worked like incense.
In his dream, he was living the life he had always wanted surrounded by the people he loved.
Their faces were blurred, yet their voices were clear and easy to recognize.
Time started to flow again, and his dream was suddenly broken by a face appearing before his eyes.
He was stunned the laughing face, bright and carefree like a silly boy, was none other than the Viscount's son.
Yet instead of reacting, Ivaan hides his surprise, keeping his expression calm and unreadable.
In the next moment, he was pulled back as someone was chasing Ivaan from behind, his dream finally and actually broke...he started to cough.
It took him a while to realize he was still inside his dream, and even Lior wasn't real anymore, which made him angry.
He stood up, brushed the dust off his pants, ran his fingers through his hair, tapped his shoes against the ground, and took a deep breath.
Meanwhile, in his estate, a quiet corner had been prepared for the afternoon's event.
The marbles stone clean, reflecting the pale light of the day.
Men and women dressed in black stood silently, their faces marked with mourning.
Each held a white flower a gentle tribute to those who had lost their lives for others in Darkskin.