The dining room was shrouded in a heavy silence, interrupted only by the murmured conversations of Tahomaru's father with some of his personal guards. They were on the other side of the long table, probably discussing political issues or military strategies—topics that would normally interest the young heir.

Tahomaru pushed the food around on his plate, distracted. His gaze wandered across the table until it found his mother and his brother on the other side. Nui, his mother, was devoted to the boy, caring for him with a tenderness Tahomaru had never experienced. She fed the brother with a spoon, and he accepted it with hesitation, but without the resistance Tahomaru expected. His mother murmured words of encouragement, something Tahomaru had longed to hear since his childhood.

The young heir felt a growing pang of envy and frustration. His brother, who had been a shadow for so long, now received the attention and affection he had always desired. And it was all because of the demon's demands that his father had no choice but to follow.

Tahomaru's fingers tightened around the chopsticks, his knuckles turning white. He knew it was all for the greater good, for the sake of the fief and the people, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. The feeling of abandonment by his own mother, now exacerbated by the attention she gave to his brother, was a burden he carried in silence.