"D—Do you hate me, Papa?"
Ren flinched, taking a step back. Seeing the little boy's eyes filled with tears stung his chest. He was certain he could no longer feel anything but terror. So why did this child's tears pain him so much?
"I-I do not," he stammered, kneeling before him. He gently wiped the tears from the boy's eyes. "I do not hate you, Young Master. Where did you learn this word?"
"I am not a baby," he sniffled.
Ren could not argue with that. Even if it had only been a few months since he was born, he already looked like a five—year—old. Even the way he spoke, even if sometimes childish, appeared more mature for the age he was supposed to be.
Although he told himself, Eiran was not a human child, his quick growth was something he could barely digest. He did not dare, however, ask the general what kind of creature Eiran was. It would also require knowing the general's species, and Eiran's mother's. Ren knew it would only anger the lord, from what Hannah told him.
