Just before Teresa called out to Herbert to convey her thoughts, she suddenly sensed something was wrong.
She saw a very familiar back.
Besides the two of them, there was another person kneeling in front of Lord Herbert, his body trembling nonstop.
The man looked ragged, his clothes full of holes, dried blood visible beneath the tattered fabric, like he hadn't taken care of himself for a long time, utterly unkempt.
A weathered, miserable aura clung to him; his posture was so humble and worked up, his whole body heaving violently under some overwhelming emotion.
"Eh?"
But that wretched figure… the longer she looked, the more familiar he seemed?
The more she looked, the more he looked like her… father?
?
Eh?
"Dad… uh, Father?"
The way she wanted to call him almost burst out, but was forced back down by sheer shock and uncertainty, finally turning into a hesitant, trembling confirmation.
