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 fragments. In

impulse, she retorted, “It’s just

breath made her regret her words. “So you admit

words as a confession, a direct acceptance of guilt. Although a shock momentarily held her captive, Millie swiftly regained her composure and vehemently shook her head in

think I can

attention of the servants, who were compelled to approach

where an unanticipated sight met

study,

pointed directly at

“Mae, step forth.”

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