The Duke had never, not once, called for his son. He didn't even want to look at the boy. If he did, his face twisted in disgust and he quickly turned away.
But now, on the day he was supposed to be drowning himself in alcohol and calling out his deceased wife's name, he was here.
Why?
What happened?
What changed?
Then, all eyes fell on Julian.
Their piercing gaze seemed to have found a jewel they wanted to snatch to their side.
If there was someone who could move the Duke, then they would very much want to be in their good books.
The nobles had misunderstood Julian as being someone who could move even the depressed Duke.
He was... Special.
That was where the first rumor of the young Lord's tutor being someone 'special' to the Duke would come from.
The Duke stood in front of the stairs and Lucius's eyes went wide, his small fork clattering against the gold plate of nearly finished honey cake.
He looked terrified, his shoulders trembling.
