Instantly, the entire room descended into silence as the tension thickened. Bran and Osric paled at the sight of the stern and temperamental custodian standing before them. Their anxious expressions garnered no sympathy from the noble; instead, his demeanor turned even more severe as he fixed his gaze on them, indicating they were about to face his wrath.

“Y-Your Highness,” Bran stammered, hastily rising from his seat. “I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t know you would come,” he continued, his anxiety intensifying. Suddenly, the older boy felt a gentle pat on his back. Glancing to his side, he saw Osric, who appeared nervous but composed. The younger boy’s calm and firm presence instantly eased Bran’s nerves. “We apologize if we’ve shown any disrespect, Your Highness.”

Lysander keenly observed the sudden change in demeanor; he narrowed his eyes as he quietly studied the two boys, focusing first on the servant before turning his attention to Osric, who seemed to have piqued his interest. Rather than shrinking under the noble’s intense gaze, he met it with indifference and respect. It appeared that his experience dealing with individuals of higher status had taught him how to comport himself in such situations.

“Boss,” Humphrey muttered, easing the tension in the room.

“Ah, yes,” Lysander responded, his eyes never leaving Osric. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, frowning. Though his temper had calmed slightly, his disapproval was evident. “Your master is unconscious in bed. How dare you laugh? Are you celebrating his condition?!” he exclaimed, scowling at them. “I know he treats you well, and this is how you repay his kindness? Tsk, how ungrateful!” he scolded, while the two boys remained quiet, visibly ashamed. “Answer me!”

“We are sorry for our behavior, Your Highness,” Osric responded, bowing respectfully to the noble. “This won’t happen again.”

“I expect that it won’t, as I won’t be as forgiving next time,” Lysander stated firmly, glancing at Bran, who quickly averted his gaze to the floor. “Hmm… Now, can you tell me what happened to my nephew?”

‘How should I answer him? Osric told me that Amara advised us never to tell anyone what happened and that we should wait for Master’s orders.

But… But this is Master’s uncle, right? It should be okay since… since they were close.

Hmm… No, they’re not. Master doesn’t like him anymore. He said so himself.

Then, what should I do?’

Bran slowly glanced up, meeting the noble’s stare, waiting for a response. The servant flinched, quickly looking down again in panic.

“Why aren’t you speaking, boy?” Lysander asked, his anger flaring once more. He despised being ignored, especially by someone he considered beneath him. “Speak!”

The servant jerked in panic, glancing up. “I… I-I don’t…” he stammered, overwhelmed by the noble’s glowering expression. His mind seemed to freeze, too terrified to respond coherently.

“We don’t know what happened, Your Highness,” Osric quickly explained, trying to protect his friend while ensuring he didn’t reveal any sensitive details. “The Master just disappeared without informing us, and when we found him, he was already like that,” he continued, meeting the noble’s gaze. “We apologize, Your Highness. Someone should have been with him at all times. We’ve learned from this experience, and it won’t happen again.”

“Disappeared?” Lysander asked, surprised by what he heard. “Where did you find him?”

“Tsk, after all this time, you still haven’t changed,” Jareth said mockingly as he suddenly emerged from the shadow of the chair. “Why are you bullying the kids, brat?”

As if the harbinger of death himself had appeared, the entire room immediately fell silent as everyone turned to the old man with wide eyes. Though mostly shocked, there was a hint of fear on their faces, especially the two adults who best knew the identity of this seemingly frail and powerless man.

“Master, it's nice to see you safe and well,” Lysander quickly muttered, bowing respectfully to the old man. Humphrey quickly followed suit without missing a beat. It couldn’t be denied that the custodian was impressive; his ability to recover swiftly and maintain poise was a skill honed over years of dealing with powerful and intimidating individuals. “If you had informed me of your visit, I would have prepared something more suitable for your esteemed status.”

“Status, my ass! I’m no noble. Quit with that pretension that you nobles are so proud of,” Jareth remarked, scowling at the superficial gesture of respect they showed him. “Seeing and hearing you do that makes my skin crawl. Tsk, just answer my question, brat: why are you bullying these kids?”

As the old man reprimanded him, Lysander gritted his teeth, suppressing the angry retort he wanted to throw. He was fully aware he would be the one to lose if he let his anger take control. Left with no choice, he exhaled deeply to calm himself and responded, “I beg to differ, Master, but I was not bullying them. I’m simply teaching them to be more respectful and observe proper etiquette befitting servants of this house. It’s my duty as the custodian…”

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“Are you saying I’m deaf, brat?!” Jareth interjected, snorting at the noble’s words. This instantly caused the custodian’s brow to furrow even more. Noticing his annoyance, the old man strolled forward in front of Lysander, studying his face intently. He grinned when he saw the noble’s face turn so red that it looked like it was about to explode. At that moment, one had to wonder who was really the bully.

“I can see it in your face; you wanted to say something. Say it! I wanted to hear you curse at me again,” Jareth dared, raising a brow in challenge. “I just hope you haven’t forgotten what happened last time.”

Lysander’s face blanched as he recalled the past, a harrowing memory that immediately doused the burning rage within him, leaving him recoiling in panic. Sensing all eyes on him, the noble cleared his throat, attempting to hide his embarrassment. “I will never curse at you, Master. I wouldn’t dare,” he quickly muttered, smiling awkwardly as he tried to diffuse the tension. Turning towards the children, he bowed. “I apologize if my words seemed harsh just now. At the moment, I am feeling very emotional and struggling to control myself. I hope for your understanding.”

“What do you say, boys?” Jareth asked, glancing at the kids whose faces paled in shock. They simply did not know how to react to this sudden change of events. “It’s your choice whether to forgive him.”

‘Forgive him? Why would he even apologize to us? This doesn’t make any sense. He scolded us, but isn’t that what nobles do? They insult and beat us, and if we don’t forgive him, what will happen next?

Wouldn’t he be angry at us? Yes, he will, and… We’ll only be causing more trouble for Master again.’

Bran was uncertain about what to do as he glanced at the old man, who only grinned at him.

“Your Highness, we accept your apology. And we also apologize for our behavior. It was insensitive for us to laugh when our master was in that state,” Osric responded, bowing respectfully in return. “We hope you can accept our apology as well.”

“I accept. Let’s put it behind us,” Lysander replied. Glancing back at the old man, he continued, “Master, I also ask forgiveness for my behavior. I hope this small incident will not affect our relationship.”

“Of course, it won’t,” Jareth responded, chuckling at their exchange as if it weren’t a big issue. However, if you looked into their eyes, you could clearly see the dislike between the two. This indicates that they would continue to despise each other while pretending to be cordial. “Why would it be? You already know how highly I think of you and your capability,” he remarked before turning to Humphrey. “Right, kid?”

The soldier flinched, startled by the sudden attention focused on him. “Of course, Master. Of course,” he hurriedly replied, awkwardly chuckling as the old man watched him intently.

Lysander just sighed and shook his head as he observed the exchange. “By the way, you mentioned earlier that my nephew disappeared?” he asked, shifting his attention back to the kids. “Where did you find him?”

‘What should I say? He’s asking us again.’

“I-I… We…” Bran stammered, struggling to respond.

“They found him near the alleyway,” Jareth answered, smiling at the noble. The servant breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the old man speak. “I was watching the boy from the shadows the whole time. I was there when they found him.”

“Really?” Lysander asked, skepticism clear in his voice. Turning to the old man, he raised a brow and continued, “I was told he was unconscious when they found him. And you just watched and did nothing?”

“Yes, is there a problem?” Jareth asked, chuckling at the scowling face of the noble. “I am not the boy’s keeper. He needs to learn the harsh realities of life,” he stated. When he saw that the custodian was still suspicious of his response, he sighed and added, “You see, in the pub, he played the hero. I told him to mind his own business, but he wouldn’t listen. The fight between him and the three drunkards had gotten so out of hand that one of his opponents got his arm cut off. Seeing blood and witnessing an arm being severed—” He sighed again, shaking his head. “It seemed that the boy was so shaken—so distraught that he wasn’t in the right mind. He wandered around in circles for a while without a destination. I even saw him vomit in the alleyway. Such a gruesome scene was too much for the boy; it made him fall unconscious, tsk. Well, we have to learn somehow. I hope this will be a valuable lesson for him.”

‘Was the master shaken by the severed arm and the blood? What is he talkin’ about? Is he still drunk? M-Master seemed to enjoy what he’s doin’ so much that I think I might even have nightmares.’

After Jareth recounted his version of events, he turned to the two children and smiled. “Isn’t that right… What was your name again?” he asked the servant.

“I’m… I’m Bran, sir,” the older boy responded, his voice nervous and uncertain.

“Bran… Yes, that name suits you,” the old man chuckled. “What do you say, Bran? Did I remember the events correctly? I’m old and was quite drunk at that time, perhaps I was mistaken.”

‘What should I say? Do I lie?’

“Uhmm… Yes… Uhmm…”

“Excuse me, sir. I’m Osric,” the younger boy interjected, bowing respectfully to the old man. “I was also present at that time. What you said is correct. We found the master in an alleyway near the pub. I can’t say for sure what happened to him when he disappeared since we weren’t there. But you’re right, after his fight with the thugs, the master seemed lost and not himself. I wanted to ask him if he was alright, but I realized that it wasn’t my place to ask such a question to him. My duty is to obey my master’s command.”

“See, I told the truth,” Jareth said, grinning as the noble narrowed his eyes skeptically at their story. “Why are you staring at me like that, brat? Are you implying that I’m a liar? Why would I even lie about something like that?”

“Someone died,” Lysander replied, scowling at the old man. “He was tortured and pinned to the wall. And that victim was one of the people my nephew fought in the pub.”

“Ah, someone died,” Jareth muttered, nodding indifferently before smiling. “So?”

Lysander growled but did not respond.

“What if I told you I killed that man?” the old man asked, grinning savagely as he stared straight into the noble’s eyes. “What would you do?”