Chapter 40: Late Night Conversation
If it was any other day like the ones when his father indulged and spoiled him. He would just smile and laugh coquettishly at his father because he knew that would get him out of the punishment. But after he had that dream, or more accurately, after his childhood memories returned, he now wholly understood his father’s actions and feelings. He really took his love for granted.
Maybe that was not the right word, but he didn’t understand why his father had been so protective of him before. The reason why his father never asked or agreed to anything he wanted to do and didn’t even question his choices or who he wanted to be friends with. He thought his father only spoiled him because he was his only son.
Now, as memories from the dream come back. As Arren thought about his father’s reaction to that bloody night, he could see the shock and hopelessness on his handsome face as he looked at the scene in front of him. The bloody image of his wife and son was burned into his heart and mind.
Suddenly, all of his love and even his fears were clear to Arren. By the way, his father froze, and how he looked and wailed afterward, Arren could feel his pain and anguish. That dream wasn’t just a way for him to remember his past; he lived through it all. He relived that night, but this time he wasn’t as innocent as a three-year-old. He also didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing.
Arren didn’t say a word and sat next to his father with his head bowed the whole time. It was the first time he had ever acted that way toward his father. He would often talk sweetly to his father, and he loved to act even more spoiled. He was sure that the Duke noticed this strange thing about him too. After a long silence, Arren was finally able to say something.
"I’m sorry, dad." Arren’s voice was low, which was very different from his usual sweet and casual voice. He really meant it when he apologized to his father. In fact, he had a lot to say, but he couldn’t.
He was sorry for sneaking out of the house, for worrying his father, for doing something that might upset him, for not listening and only doing what he wanted, and, most importantly, for being stubborn whenever his father wanted him to be protected by bodyguards, knowing full well how special his identity was. Everything piled up and was reduced to a simple ’sorry’.
"You..." the Duke sighed, but he didn’t finish what he was going to say. Instead, His father’s fingers gently run his fingers through his hair, just like when he was a child. Arren lifted his head and met his father’s eyes.
"Dad, Aren’t you... mad at me?" Arren whispered. Deep down, he was confused.