Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 1236

Carissa left the room first and Cody followed, quietly closing the door behind him.

Inside the small side hall, only Gerald and Malcolm remained. The father and son pair sat in silence for a long while, neither of them speaking. Finally, it was Malcolm who stepped forward, intending to remove the cloth covering Gerald. But the old man held tightly to it with both hands, refusing to let him.

With a heavy heart, Malcolm set the blankets and clothing aside, turning his back. "Please change your clothes. I'll turn around."

The sound of rustling fabric came after a long pause.

A sharp, uncomfortable feeling welled up inside Malcolm. His chest tightened, his throat burned, and his nose became clogged as tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't tell if it was from frustration, anger, or the weight of everything he couldn't quite accept.

All his life, his father had been a figure of stern authority, someone whose presence commanded respect. His words could shake the literary world, and his cold, unapproachable demeanor was feared by many. But now, this disgrace.

If word of it got out, it wouldn't just cause a ripple. It would send shockwaves through the entire kingdom. After a long while, Malcolm's voice broke the silence, "Are you done?"

There was no answer, but there was also no sound of fabric rustling anymore.

Turning slowly, he saw Gerald lying on the makeshift bed of chairs, completely wrapped in the thick quilt, his face and head hidden beneath it. The clothes he had worn earlier were carefully folded, resting neatly on the table beside him.

The neatness of it struck Malcolm deeply.

Yet here, his father had done it himself, managing

garish hues-burned Malcolm's eyes. The tears he had been holding

completely confused, his voice trembled as he asked,

the blanket, Gerald's hands were clenched tightly, his nails digging

Malcolm entered the room, he hadn't called Gerald

not understand what was on his son's mind? He

he left now, he would have to face Carissa.

to inquire with the Marquis of Glandale, asking how many people knew about Gerald's visit to the

he hid alone in the study-he felt the weight of

what seemed like an eternity, his voice cracked

remnants of tears, his

remained motionless, as if he had stopped

you face

me understand why. When this gets

now. What was left was to come up with some reasonable excuse, something that could mitigate the

minutes, Gerald finally lifted the blankets, likely because he felt suffocated underneath all the layers. His face was

guard, nearly toppling from his chair in shock. He clutched his chest, gasping

lay still, speaking in

I can't forgive myself either. But I've never indulged myself in my life. Now, with

than to Malcolm. Perhaps Gerald had always been justifying his actions to himself this way. How else could he bring himself to