[ FORBIDDEN MANSION ]
Conan was sitting on a chair beside the bed where his father was resting. His arms were propped on his spread leg, hands dangling in between his thigh. Unlike his usual expensive clothing, he was in an inner armor suit, which he hadn't worn for a long time.
"The banquet had started," he murmured, lifting his eyes up at the person on the bed. A deep breath slipped past his lips, straightening his back. "This is all your fault."
"You stood untouchable for many years, only to fall into your son's scheme." Conan shook his head, pushing himself up to stand. "Now here he was, bringing us problems you avoided in the past. We will have to do the fixing again… again."
Conan stressed the last word before his teeth clenched. His eyes bore no affection for the man lying motionless on the bed.
