Inside the study, Duke St. Prowse looked up at his eldest son across the room, an indescribable depth in his gaze.
Seeing this, Marquis Vincent didn't hide his disappointment, letting out a well-timed sigh of disillusionment and resentment. "Father," he said, "You say you're not biased. When my brother assumed based on rumors that I had been assassinated in Silver Moon City, you nearly believed him right away.
But now, undeniable facts lie before you, yet you still refuse to believe me."
Duke St. Prowse remained silent, setting a crystal chess piece on the board in front of him. He watched his son quietly, as if to say—
It's your move.
Marquis Vincent tossed his chess piece onto the board, disrupting the game.
Just as Duke St. Prowse was about to reprimand him, his son said: