With a gesture that carried the weight of his final wishes, his great grandfather’s trembling hand directed towards Marcus. His parting words were etched in that moment, a prophecy that this young boy held the potential to achieve remarkable greatness in the times to come.

Though many years had elapsed since his great grandfather’s departure from this world, his plea resonated through time. He implored those who remained to safeguard the porcelain, a tangible link to a cherished past and an unwritten promise for the future.

Millie felt the weight of Marcus’ anguish. But his accusations and the tangible proof of the porcelain debris left her grasping for some semblance of defense. She looked around desperately, half-hoping for a camera that might have caught the real culprit.

Marcus scoffed.

“Is it a daily mission of yours, Millie, to brew storms?”

Upon observing that Millie’s attention seemed scattered, her gaze darting in search of an escape from the intensity of the situation, Marcus’ anger surged to greater heights.

adjacent to the heap of shattered

the increasing ire in his tone. On impulse, she retorted, “It’s just porcelain.

of breath made her regret her words. “So you

of guilt. Although a shock momentarily held her captive, Millie

haven’t,” Millie protested. “But I think I can shine a

attention of the servants, who were compelled to approach the door, their curiosity piqued. With cautious concern, they gently inquired about the unfolding

where an

person who had beckoned her to the study, was surreptitiously concealed

directly

“Mae, step forth.”

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