Sehir returned to bed, his gaze falling on Isri. The two were now so far apart; they could not and would never go back to what they were like before.
Isri had lost some weight; his already slender waist was now accentuated even more by the black suit.
This person almost perfectly embodies the general aesthetic standard; every inch of their skin is flawless, and their hair, as black as night, makes their porcelain white skin appear even more radiant.
The curtains were folded by Islam like works of art.
"Young Master, should we open the window?" Isri stood by the window, a sliver of light falling on him, casting a handsome shadow.
Cecil tilted his head, glanced blankly out the window, and weakly opened his lips: "No."
Only after receiving instructions did Islam return and fiddle with the items on the food cart.
"Young master, today's meal is hot milk and thick soup."
Isri set up the bedside table and placed the plates on it. Sehir looked at the liquid food in front of him and sighed involuntarily.
"Aren't there any others?"
“No, young master, you can only eat liquid food these days,” Isri said calmly.
Sehir didn't reply, picked up his spoon and ate listlessly. After a while, there seemed to be some movement outside the window, and Sehir turned his head away.
The little birds outside have returned with a few twigs in their beaks, as if they are building a nest.
"May I pick a few flowers?" Sehir asked, setting his spoon aside.
Isri followed Ceshir's gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly, before replying after a moment, "No."
Sesil twitched his fingertips. He already knew the answer, so why ask?
Looking at the thick soup in the bowl, Sesil frowned, but eventually picked up the spoon and ate it spoonful by spoonful.
I don't know why, but my fatigue has been getting worse every day these past few days. I haven't even been fully awake for a few minutes after eating before my eyelids start to droop again.
It wasn't until noon that he was awakened by the sound of Isri opening the door. Sehir, still feeling sleepy, sat up and instinctively looked out the window.
Suddenly, as if his nerves had been stimulated, Sehir stared wide-eyed out the window. The next second, he turned his head back, his eyes filled with fear and confusion.
“What about the birds’ nests in the trees outside?” Sehir asked, clutching the blanket.
Islam straightened up, glanced outside, and a smile appeared on his lips.
"What do you think, young master?"
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Sehir gritted his teeth, glanced out the window again, then turned back to stare at Isri.
What did you do to them?
Seeing that Sehir was getting increasingly annoyed, Isri remained expressionless and calmly spoke.
"Young Master thinks I killed them?" Isri looked at Sehir, his eyes showing some emotion, then chuckled, "Then Young Master, just consider me to have killed them."
Sesil trembled slightly, his grip on the blanket tightened, and his voice was agitated: "You madman! What have they done to you!"
A cold glint flashed in Isri's eyes, the smile on his lips faded, and he bent down slightly closer to Ceshir, his voice alluring.
“But the young master’s gaze falls on them far more often than mine, and I’m jealous.”
Sehir's eyes trembled violently as he was stared at by Isri, unable to look away. Those golden eyes were gripping him tightly, like a golden hell.
Finally, Isri chuckled softly, straightened up, took something from his breast pocket, and continued to threaten Ceshir.
"If you're worried about them, young master, you'd better keep your eyes to yourself. There are more than just one or two animals outside."
Sehir glared angrily at Isri, gritting his teeth, unsure of what to say.
A smile appeared in Isri's eyes, and he produced a small black velvet box with silver rose prints on it.
Isri walked up to Ceshir, opened the box, and inside lay a silver ring wrapped with a circle of silver roses.
"Young master, give me your hand."
Sehir stared at the ring, hesitating to offer his hand to Isri: "What are you doing?"
"This ring suits you well, young master, so I bought it. Don't you like it, young master?"
For some reason, Sehir sensed aggrievedness in Isri's words. After struggling with the decision for a long time, Sehir finally handed over his hand.
The moment it landed in Isri's hand, Sehir still involuntarily trembled.
Isri turned around, skillfully pulled off his gloves, took out the ring from the box, and knelt down in front of Ceshir.
A ring adorned with roses slipped onto her middle finger, the perfect size that made her already slender finger even more beautiful.
“I hope you won’t take it off, young master. It’s beautiful.” Isri took Cesil’s hand and kissed the ring.
He is asserting sovereignty.
The madman's greed for his master is fully concealed in this rose ring studded with tiny thorns.
Isri raised his head, his voice like a cello ringing in his ears. The light above illuminated his cold, handsome features, his expression both sinister and gentle, as if he were in the deepest part of the ocean, completely enveloping Sehir.
“My dearest Cecil, I will always protect you and love you.”
The intense light in Isri’s eyes constantly stimulated Cecil’s brain, becoming clearer and more intense with each passing moment.
This hidden, surging love, this heart-pounding, weightless feeling, all burst forth.
"Young Master, I will love you until I die."
Sehir sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the madman who had submitted to him. He shed all his ferocity, leaving only love radiating from him.
Cecil's ears turned slightly red as her gaze fell on the ring, but love is not imprisonment.
He slowly withdrew his hand, his voice weak and feeble as he replied.
"I understand, I won't pick it."
Isri curled his lips into a smile, stood up and stood in front of Cesil, reached out and brushed Cesil's hair, which had grown past his eyes, twirled it between his fingertips and tucked it behind his ear.
"Young Master, you should stay quietly in bed. If you tear the wound, you'll need to apply medicine."
After Islam finished speaking, Sehir froze for a moment, sitting on the bed without daring to move.
Isri smiled, a beautiful smile playing on his lips, and closed the door before leaving.
Sehir adjusted his position and lay quietly on the bed. In the past few days, he hadn't even taken more than ten steps. His bones felt like they were about to fall apart, and he was extremely vulnerable.
_
On the other side, in the garden behind the house, some flowers have already bloomed again, and butterflies and bees are scrambling to grab the newest bloom.
Isri held a brown box and some old fabric in his hand. The pavilion behind the garden had been cleaned and the pure white decorations made the place seem even more secluded from the world.
Isri placed the items on the marble platform and spread out the pieces of cloth in his hands one by one.
"Squeak—squeak—"
A few bird calls suddenly came from above the quiet garden. After the cloth was prepared, Islam stepped on the stone bench and took down the bird's nest that was placed in the pavilion partition.
The baby birds inside were newly hatched and still shivering from the cold. Ishri piled the cloth he had laid out inside the nest, and the baby birds seemed to have found a source of warmth, with several of them crowding their heads to squeeze inside.
A rare hint of tenderness appeared in Isri's eyes as he gently rubbed the head of a small bird that couldn't squeeze in with his fingertips.
Following Isri's finger, the little bird pressed its entire face against it, rubbing against Isri's finger.
The brown box contained freshly fried dried rice, which was just scattered into the bird's nest. The little birds immediately turned their heads and began to eat it, nodding vigorously as if they had been starving for a long time.
It was the same one as before; it still couldn't get any food and could only watch Isri longingly.
Those dark eyes showed no fear as it stood tall and flew or walked towards Isri.
Isri poured some food into his hand, and the little bird immediately hopped onto Isri's hand and slowly ate its own food.
Looking at the object, which was no bigger than the palm of his hand, Isri's eyebrows twitched slightly.
I saw the female bird building its nest a few days ago, but I haven't seen her at all these past few days. Only these little creatures are left, chirping incessantly in the trees.
After the little bird had eaten its fill, it lay down in Isri's hand and fell asleep again, its swollen belly still trembling. Isri raised his hand to stroke its soft feathers, his eyes returning to their indifferent state.
If only the young master were this obedient.
Islam put the bird back in its nest and placed it back on the shelf in the pavilion, then looked up at the houses in the distance.
Although most of them have been renovated, there are still a few that cannot be renovated and remain in their original charred state.
Islam put his gloves back on and stared at a room on the second floor, lost in thought.
Sehir is now... very afraid of him, and even believes some unfounded certainties.
But unconsciously, Islam laughed out loud.
Wouldn't it be easier to guide a young master like that?
He wanted to see those eyes, which were suppressing desire, again.
No matter what method you use.
?
A note from the author:
Little bird: Sticky~
Islam: I was actually against it.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Islam exhaled, put his apron back on, and began cleaning the room, which was now spotless.
Only three days had passed since he was imprisoned in the room, but for Sesil, those three days were torture.
With the pain lessening somewhat, Sehir got up and tried to move around.
His feet touched the ground, which felt soft and yielding like cotton candy, but it was much better than before. Sehir supported himself on the table, then the wall, and moved step by step.
In the quiet room, the sound of the chains being pulled was unusually clear. Whether it was because the chains were too heavy or because his body was too weak, Cecil began to pant after only a few steps.
Sehir stretched his body from side to side and continued walking forward. If he didn't exercise, he was afraid he would be paralyzed in bed.
It's morning now, after all, and Isri should still be in the kitchen preparing breakfast.