For some reason, Ren was no longer allowed to do his usual duties. Every time he went to the kitchen to prepare Zayden's meals or tried to lend a hand with the chores, he was promptly told to leave.
Whenever he asked why, the answer was always the same: "You're a guest. You shouldn't be doing these things."
But Ren had done these things before—at least until the hunting festival, when he had gotten injured.
As if that weren't enough, Yusha had been assigned to take care of Eiran's bath and clothes by Zayden.
Eiran's usual attendant and nanny hadn't followed them to the capital, so Ren had assumed he would get to spend more time with his son. Yet somehow, even that had been taken away.
"I don't understand," Ren groaned, slumping into a chair while Yusha helped Eiran dress.
The young man tilted his head, his gaze landing on Ren.
"You don't understand what?" he asked.
"I mean… it's peculiar. Why is everyone acting so strangely?" he murmured, his gaze fixed on the gray carpet.
