Matthias's grip slackened, his fingers uncurling from his brother's collar as the storm in his eyes began to recede. "Our father..." he began, his voice dropping into a hollow rasp, "well... that is a different tale altogether. You know exactly why I did what I did."
"I do," Leon replied, his tone chillingly level. "And so did I. I see no distinction between us, save for one: I did not lay a finger on Emelia, whereas you... you truly ended him."
Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. Matthias offered no rebuttal. Nearby, Olivia watched them, a phantom witness to their fraternal strife.
She felt like an intruder in a sanctuary of ghosts, yet a dark spark of pride flickered within her. He had done it. He had committed the very act she fantasized about in her quietest hours—patricide. The mere thought of it brought her a sinister sense of peace.
