"Would you help me?" the smile on Philip's face froze. His eyes flickered with an emotion Harold could not understand. But it was gone before Harold could point it out.
"What made you think that I will help you, Harold? You are nothing but a burnt crisped piece of bread left by him.'' The words made Harold finch.
"Because until lord Damien is here, your brother will never notice you." Harold replied, forcing a smirk on his face. He had to show them that he did not care and his weak body did not affect his strength.
Philips's expression did not change. But his muscles stiffened slightly, which was enough for Harold to smile.
"We both know that his majesty only thinks Duke Damien is strong enough to stand beside him and for him, you would only stay as a child.
He never asks you for advice. He never even concerns himself with your life. He treats you as nothing more than a tantrum throwing child." Harold shook his head.