The Duke's Passion

The more I moved, the more flexible I got. It was as if my difficulty in lifting a finger was just a fragment of my illusion. I hopped over the west wall of the estate and landed without a problem. 

"That foolish man," I muttered while jogging away from the mansion. "How can he do that to his wife?"

I could imagine his wife's anger and son's confusion that Sam was taking care of another woman. Sam looked at me with the same affection in the past and talked soothingly. His new wife must be a good person for letting this strange set up because I wouldn't approve of it. 

"Over my dead body," I whispered, putting myself in his wife's shoes. I sounded selfish, but I was selfish. 

I shook my head profusely to get them out of my head. My focus should be on surveying this town. I jogged aimlessly through the empty street, taking shortcuts from alley to alley. The estate was situated far from civilization. I mean, it was quite a distance from the lights my eyes could reach.

I followed the light and only after a while, I realized that my speed was faster before I entered my slumber. Did I have enough stock energy after a long rest? It must be the case. I didn't dwell in it and soon reached the heart of the town.

From the narrow alley, I stood and gazed at the bustling city. The place didn't look as advanced as the Imperial Capital, or it appeared like the new Grimsbanne. It was the combination of old and new like Cunningham.

"Where the hell is this place?" I murmured while looking around and caught the people flocking at the center of the plaza. 

"Oh, hello there." Suddenly, a man came from my side. I moved my gaze up, noticing the glint in his eyes as he licked his lips. He raised his arm against the concrete, eyes on me.

"You seemed lost." He looked down at me and smirked. "And still in your nightdress. Do you need help?"

I gazed down and realized I was in my chemise! Goodness...

"I can help you if you need anything."

I blinked twice, studying his long coat. His clothes were too huge for me to wear, so that coat was enough for a cover. 

"Yes. I drifted far from the inn I stayed at." I smiled brightly, and he smiled back, not knowing he'd soon walk bare.

*********

Meanwhile, at the entrance of the estate, Samael leaned his side against the jamb. He was only in his robe, arms-crossed while gazing down at his son. The butler of the manor and a few maidservants stood at the entrance, darting their eyes on the father-son duo.

"Take care, son," he waved at his son, who was gazing up at his laid-back father.

The young boy had the same eye color as his mother's; green as the forest during summertime, matched with silky silver hair that was as warm as the moonlight. A plumped pink cheeks and small lips made him look adorable and harmless. 

"Thank you for letting me stay, Father." The young master tilted his head down before turning to his right where his small luggage at. "I will sneak in sometimes to get mother."

"Don't even try." Samael shook his head, closed-lipped. "Anyway, there is a good inn just from across the town. You should stay there tonight."

"Alright. I will check and judge it."

"I'm sure you'll love it there." 

Their conversation was strange but didn't surprise the servants anymore. They already got used to the complicated relationship between the master of the house and his son. Also, it was not the first time the young master was 'running away.' Although, this was the first time Samael sent him off.

"Won't you wait for Fabian to return?" Samael inquired when his son lifted his small luggage. "He will be heartbroken if you ran away without bidding your farewell to him."

His son shook his head, carrying his luggage with both his hands. "Mister Fabian will find me if he wants to. Please tell him to bring his tools, so I can order him to clean the estate I will be buying."

"Oh! Sure."

"Thank you, Father." The boy expressed once again before he turned around to walk away.

Samael just watched his son's small back and sighed. His son just do whatever he wanted, and he didn't want to restrict him from doing so. It was hard to raise a child to be someone his mother would be proud of.

"Do you want me to lend you a hand?" asked Samael when his son took around ten steps away. "You seem to need someone to carry that luggage."

"I don't want a servant with me." The child looked back with a cold frown.

"I'll do it, then. I will help you run away." His father proposed, which made the child's frown turn gloomier. 

The servants couldn't help but look at each other with a conflicted look on their faces. Wasn't the reason the young master was running away was to leave his father? Just what was their master thinking about proposing to come along? This conversation between father and son just grew even weirder by the minute. And it would only grow stranger a second later.

"Alright. It will save me some money." The child nodded after a minute of contemplation. 

"Go back in. I will go change." Samael cocked his head towards the door and pulled himself away from the jamb. He glanced at the puzzled servants, but his sharp gaze made them look down.

"Help my son and prepare a carriage. I will..." his brow quirked when a servant came rushing to the mansion's entrance yelling, 'master!'. "What is so urgent for you to be barking late at night?" 

The young boy had already reached the entrance and stood beside his father. He frowned when the servant suddenly went to her knees.

"Master, I — please forgive me! I didn't — it just — when I --"

"Can you speak properly?" Samael frowned, gazing down at the maid's back. "I can't understand a word you say."

The servant shivered at the coldness of his voice. She gulped a mouthful of saliva, looking up to reveal her pale complexion. Her lower lip trembled as they parted.

"The... madam," she stuttered, and the sudden glint in Samael's eyes was like death was staring back at her.

"What about my wife?" Samael's tone was low and menacing, making everyone gulp. Even his son looked up at him, as he had never felt this alarming aura coming out of his 'coward' of a father.

"The madam... she... she is.... gone."