The lord was certainly different from any boy his age.
Mio couldn't help but think that, after everything.
At first, Azriel had reluctantly accepted her proposal to rest here. The first day passed by peacefully, quietly. She was relieved when he eventually told her his name.
Then came the second day.
Then the third.
Then days turned into a week.
And now, a few weeks had gone by.
Azriel's routine remained the same—three things, over and over again:
Eat.
Absorb the mana in the air.
Sleep.
Despite Mio warning him repeatedly to let his mana core rest, Azriel refused to listen. If one were to say Azriel was a good house guest, it would be a lie. But that didn't mean he was a bad one either. He didn't cause trouble, not really. He even created an ice bed—earning another scolding from Mio, so she could have her own bed again.
He just didn't speak much. Unless it was necessary.
...The boy with only one eye seemed to be holding back a storm of emotions.
