People in this chapter: (Iris Hallongoth), (Ed Hallongoth).

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Chapter 003: (Hidden Love)

The night approached like a haze, and it became heavy, as if darkness was rising from all sides at the same time as the night, and even flowing down from the heights.

From time to time, a star broke free and swept across the sky, leaving a trail like fire. There is no moon in the sky, and the brilliant stars are like tinder sprinkled in the dark sky.

Many stars hung in the sky, like countless eyes. There was a star, which seemed to be covered with frost flowers on its side, and its body glowed with cold light, looking at the earth from the dark sky with an innocent and romantic look of surprise.

When Iris returned to the castle for dinner, he stayed until the evening in his mother's room, at the west end of the second floor of the castle, with a view of the beautiful and tranquil river Umeya. All the furnishings in this room are still the same as they were when he left three years ago.

The light veil of the night imperceptibly obscured everything near and far. The high, blue sky was sparsely dotted with jewel-like stars, like the Milky Way paved with fine quicksand lying on the cyan sky.

Xiao Xiao's night breeze whipped the boy's green face, making him feel a slight cringe. It was dark, but there were no servants to light the lamp, and it was an abandoned room. But in the eyes of this teenager, everything here is his most precious treasure.

Iris's mother's room was located in the southeast corner of the castle, and a small room next to it was Iris's own room. The building has a beautiful balcony overlooking the gently flowing Umeya River and the Rhodok Mountains further south.

There were all kinds of flower pots around the balcony, but there was not a single flower, the flower pots were covered with dust, and there were only a few barren weeds that no one cared about.

Iris crouched on the balcony and saw through the beautifully carved pillars of the high walls.

The various buildings in the castle have been lit up, and from a distance it looks lively and splendid. The soldiers in the barracks of the castle were patrolling in groups of about ten, and the noise of the tavern could be heard standing here, but none of this had anything to do with him.

His vivid and clear eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of mist at the moment, and the lively noise below was a stark contrast to his state of mind at the moment. His face was strangely sad and painful, frozen like ice, and as cold as a rock.

Iris looked at the various scenes under the castle in a daze, where he could sit and watch the various beautiful scenery of the southern part of Swadia, but there was something missing from the small figure, and from behind he looked so alone and lovable.

Iris stood up, and in the bedroom, which was already completely dark, he opened a nanmu wardrobe as if he could see everything in the dark.

The wardrobe was empty, there was nothing, he touched the left side of the inner wall of the wardrobe, until he reached a hook, he raised his feet and twisted it gently, and the inner wall of the front 'creaked' opened a small door.

Iris walked in, and it was all so familiar. It only took a few short steps to lead to his own room.

This is a little secret of the mother and son, Iris has been very attached to his mother since he was a child, and the Duchess loves her son very much. It is natural for a son to be attached to his mother, but Iris's father is very worried that his son will lose the strength of a boy.

From the age of five, Iris was forced by his father to move out of the Duchess's bedroom and into his own room. The Duke's fears were justified, and it was true, and Iris resembled everything to the Duchess. He was weak, kind, and obedient, and at a young age he was afraid of the dark to the point of no return.

In the darkness, the Duchess fidgeted in bed, and she could clearly hear a trembling cry calling out to her mother in the two-foot-thick stone wall, until the cry faded away. Every whispering call was in the Duchess's heart, like a dagger stabbed with sap.

At the Duchess's whispering plea, an old craftsman in the castle disobeyed the Duke's order and quietly opened a small hidden door in this wardrobe. This was done during the Duke of Harongoth's expedition, and there were only three people who knew the secret.

From then on, the Duchess often complained that she was unwell and went back to her room early to rest. However, every night, Iris no longer begins to spread fear at the sound of his father locking the door of his bedroom, and is replaced by endless joy and joy.

Because as long as he knocked lightly on the small door three times, in a few minutes, a beautiful figure in pajamas would emerge from behind the cabinet he had specially placed. She always said with open arms and in a soft, serene tone, "My dear child. ”

It was a narrow passage through the wall, about four feet high, with a hidden door on either side, and the door was covered in dust, as if it had never been used since it was built.

One can imagine a mother who has to crawl almost through this passage every day to lull little Iris to sleep before she can return to her room in the same way.

At this moment, Iris is in this passage, slowly walking back and forth through this path that once connected the love of mother and son, like a ghost. This made the already gloomy and dark room even more eerie, and anyone who saw it would be terrified.

This behavior continued for about half an hour, and Iris crawled out of the small passage and returned to his mother's room, where he looked fixedly at a portrait hanging on the wall to the left of the bed.

Judging from the silhouette faintly in the darkness, it was a slender and graceful figure. When Iris got closer, he stood beneath the mural and looked up at the woman.

This is a full-length portrait of a woman wearing a light green tunic dress with a linen shawl draped over her shoulders, which makes her look simple and elegant. Her hair was the same chestnut and blonde color as Iris's, and her hair was tied up to show a graceful curve from her cheeks to her cheeks. The fair-skinned and slender shoulders and neck, especially those beautiful and soft eyes, make people feel as if they are looking at you calmly from any angle.

It's strange that in such a situation, this picture makes people feel creepy when imagined. But this is not the case, because her smile seems to be the only glimmer of warmth in this trance darkness.

I have to admire this painter for having such a superb brushwork, and the woman in the painting is so vividly sketched with simple colors and lines. If anyone saw Iris's sobbing little face, he would see that mother and son looked so similar!

Iris turned from a low sobbing to a whimper, hugging the bottom of the wall, his little face pressed against the corner of his mother's skirt, tears running across his limited face.

From above the child's trembling shoulders, there was a line in small ancient Calade script—Beloved Wife, Constance Merte.

As the night wore on, all the noise inside and outside the castle had ceased, and there was silence all around.

At this moment, the door to the Duchess's room opened.

In the dim starlight appeared a deeply tired face, the old duke, who had just finished his heavy work, had come to visit his son. He stood at the door for a while, and found his son in front of the portrait of the Duchess.

The old man came to Iris, who was already asleep from crying, and he gently picked up his son, and carefully clasped his son's hands around his thick shoulders. Then, like his son, he stood quietly in front of the portrait, looking deeply at the woman in the painting, remembering his beloved wife in the dark night.

After some time, when the old duke was about to walk out of the room with Iris in his arms, he saw the small hidden door that had not yet closed.

He walked over and closed the mechanism as skillfully as Iris. Then the old duke carried Iris back to his little room, laid his son gently on the bed, covered him with a blanket, and carefully tucked the corners.

If anyone can see this scene here, it will be incredible.

The old duke's harshness towards his son became even more severe after the death of Lady Constance. He strictly regulated the details of Iris's life everywhere, did not provide his son with attendants and servants, and had no expenses that he could use.

The old man imposed his simplicity on this young son, and in short, as a noble family of great prestige and dominance, the privileges and advantages that the only son of a great nobleman should enjoy were all absent.

The docile and kind Iris makes people who have daily contact with him very fond of him.

When the Duke found out about this, he declared that no one could give the child a copper plate or any advantage that did not belong to him without his permission. No accusations or pleas could make the Duke lighten this draconian control.

This is extremely unbelievable in the entire territory of the Kingdom of Swadia, whether it is the upper class aristocratic society or the peddlers' pawns, even if it is an illegitimate child, it will not be subject to such restraint and cruelty.

The old duke approached the bedside with a look of gentleness that no ordinary person could see, and his eyes looked at his sleeping son without blinking.

Oh! This poor father can only give his beloved son the love he has under the cover of night.

The bleak light, the deathly silence, all the terrible things that the late night can cause, and especially in his heart, which is so tormented by longing, who knows how much love this cold father has for his son in the eyes of all?

Father's love is like a ray of sunshine in this dark night, so that his son's heart can feel warm like spring even in the cold winter, and father's love is like a clear spring in a stream, so that his son's emotions are still pure and clear even if they are covered with the dust of time.

Father's love is as selfless as mother's love, and he does not ask for anything in return; father's love is an obscure, invisible feeling, which can only be experienced by those who are attentive.

All of this is intertwined to create an atmosphere of calm and serenity. He lay on his side beside Iris, leaning over the pillow and looking at his son.

The boy was sleeping peacefully, his bloodless lips breathing softly, tears still lingering in the corners of his eyes, and his chestnut hair scattered across his pale and emaciated cheeks.

The Duke stared at the still, but still endearing face, and with a long sigh, he got up and walked out of the room, closing the door gently.

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To all the fathers of the world:

Father's love is like a majestic mountain, let us rely on when we encounter difficulties;

A father's love is like a tall pine tree, sheltering us from the wind and rain when we encounter setbacks;

Fatherly love is like a bright beacon, showing us the way forward when we are lost;

Fatherly love is like a vast ocean, with a big heart to contain all our mistakes.

The last sentence: We also love our father, but we don't love us like our father. Our love is a stream, and the Father's love is the ocean.

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