chapter 2 (Inheritance of Cold)

The room was grand, draped in heavy silks and gilded wood, yet it felt like a crypt. The air was frigid, biting at the skin.A lingering chill that mirrored the lifeless hand I still held.

She had always been a source of warmth, a flickering hearth in a cold world, but now, her fingers were like waxen marble. The silence of the room was heavy, suffocating.

Screech.

The door opend suddenly

"Dare you bring him here?"

"Madam, the Duke ordered-"

"Shut up! Take him to the basement. I will not have this filth tainting the walls of my house."

"My apologies, my lady, But the Duke orders are absolute.The boy stays in the mansion."the butler  intervened as calmly as possible while replying to head Mistress of the house.

The Countess glared back, her jaw tight as she weighed the cost of defying her husband's will. For a heartbeat, murder flickered in her eyes, but she bit it back, realizing the walls had ears and the Count had hands everywhere. With one final, venomous look cast down at the boy,a look that promised a slow, lingering cruelty...she spun on her heel and stormed away.

Martha, the maid assigned to lead the way, watched the Duchess vanish, her hands trembling with the weight of the danger she had just walked into. She turned to the boy, her eyes darting toward the hallway to ensure the Duchess and the butler were truly gone.

"This is your room,"

Martha said, her voice thin and forced. She gestured to the sparse, dimly lit quarters.

"If you require anything, call for me. If you cannot find me, find the others. Ask them for what you need."

She felt a sharp prickle of pity for the boy.... it showed in the way her gaze lingered on the boy but she suppressed it instantly. She would never call him Young Master.

To do so was to invite the Duchess's wrath. Taking a one last look at him , at his bowed head, his hunched shoulders  which he used to hide his shaking and his tightly clenched fists that the knuckles were bleached white.... she retreated, pulling the heavy door shut behind him.

The latch clicked.

Inside the room, Adrian finally looked up. The air rushed into his lungs, ragged and wet. His eyes were raw, burning with a heat that didn't match the freezing room.

Tears blurred the corners of the gilded ceiling, streaming silently down his face in hot, stinging tracks. He sat in the silence, the cold of the mansion already seeping into his bones.

_