Chapter 33: Heating argument
Elias, standing near the doorway, shifted uncomfortably, his hands clasped tightly as he watched the confrontation unfold. His gaze flickered nervously between the two, sweat gathering at his brow as if fearing the consequences of this escalating argument.
The duke finally straightened his posture, his hands sliding off the desk to rest at his sides. His expression grew colder, his voice dropping to a tone so icy it sent chills down Elias's spine.
"You truly believe you are above this? That you have the luxury to deny your fate simply because it does not suit your whims?"
Axelius's fists clenched tighter, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. "Whims?" he spat, voice shaking slightly—not with fear, but with restrained fury.
"You think it's whims that make me refuse? You think I'm just throwing a tantrum because I want attention?" He took a step forward, "You've never understood, have you Duke?"
The duke's eyes narrowed. "Mind your tone, Axelius. You forget your place."
"My place?" Axelius's laugh was bitter, "What place, huh? The place of a son who's treated like nothing but an obligation? Or maybe you mean the place of someone who's expected to follow orders blindly, without ever being asked what he wants?" His voice rose, filled with years of pent-up frustration.
"You think I don't see it? You've never looked at me the way other fathers look at their sons. Not even once!"
The duke's expression hardened, but Axelius didn't stop—he couldn't stop, not now. "I've watched other families," he continued, voice cracking slightly. "I've seen fathers who actually care, who smile at their children, who spend time with them... who don't just see them as pawns to be moved around on a damn chessboard." His fists were shaking now, his breathing ragged.