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━─────── The Duke and Duchess Exylia, according to the whispers of the game's fans, were the quintessential parents who held their eldest child in much higher regard than the youngest. Some speculated that it was because they were aware of Lance's origins, while others simply believed they adored their firstborn beyond reason. Whatever the reason, favoritism, especially in a family, was a concept few would ever praise. As they say, a parent's love for their children should be measured equally, yet life often proved the opposite.
But humans, well, humans were anything but simple. They were a tangled mess of emotions, ambitions, and desires──feelings often as complicated and erratic as the world itself.
In truth, fans of the game──those fiercely passionate supporters──often exaggerated the dynamics of the Exylia family. They claimed the entire household deserved to fall into ruin, that their sins were too great for any redemption, and even went so far as to say that the punishments inflicted upon them were never enough. In the end, it was easier to vilify someone than to consider the full complexity of their actions.
"Father, you called?"
The soft click of the door echoed through the room as Eve stepped inside, the butler holding it open with an almost reverent bow before silently closing it behind him. Eve's gaze briefly flickered to the butler's retreating figure, noting the man's rigid, composed posture before his attention shifted toward his father.
Seated behind an imposing mahogany desk, Reed Exylia emanated an aura of authority that could freeze even the most seasoned soldier in their tracks. His back rested against the chair in a relaxed posture, his leg crossed over the other as his hands were loosely clasped together atop the polished surface of the table.
A man of wealth and power, Reed's presence alone demanded respect, his every movement deliberate and controlled. His sharp emerald eyes held no trace of warmth, and though they were the same piercing shade as Lance's, they lacked the same vulnerability. Where Lance's emotions often leaked through his expressions, Reed's were guarded, hidden behind a mask of experience. His gaze held the sharp precision of someone who had mastered the art of emotional restraint──someone who had learned not to reveal a single thought without intention.
Eve, though not intimidated, couldn't help but feel a sense of caution. He had met important figures in his past life, including the President of his country, who carried the same commanding presence. That familiarity gave him some comfort, but it didn't erase the fact that Reed was a man who wielded power without question. And, despite Eve's personal convictions, a quiet wariness remained in the back of his mind. This man was not to be underestimated.
