Solivair knew this all too well. After all, he had grown up in a world devoid of warmth. Even his own mother had only ever treated him as a tool, constantly scheming against him.
In some ways, he and Arthur were alike. At least, they had been, until she came into his life.
It wasn't until then that Solivair had experienced what it felt like to be genuinely cared for, to be loved without ulterior motives.
For the first time, he had understood that life wasn't just about calculation and betrayal. But his luck had run out too soon. She had left him.
The only thing she had given him was a daughter, his one, precious daughter. And even that had been ripped away from him.
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