The higher places were both lofty and cold.
Xion had never liked the cold, yet with time he understood he was bound to remain in it.
It wasn't just the snow drifting outside the window that made him think so, but also the behavior of the people around him.
Regardless of whether they were his former students, friends, or even someone he was accustomed to joking with, they had begun to maintain a respectful distance from him.
Bard, old man Berry, Allen, and even Ray, all of them would carefully ponder over their words before answering him, fearing that they would offend him.
Only Noxian still clung to him, still called him 'brother' without any restraint.
Xion, on the other hand, had become a name reserved solely for Darius to call.
Even Bard no longer addressed him as 'young lord,' as he used to do back in Faymere, but as 'His Grace.'
"If you continue to joke with them, they'll treat you as their friend, Xion. And that would blur the boundaries that shouldn't be crossed."
