Chapter Seventy-Five

——The recollection continues——

Golden strands of hair swept through the air as Arthur slowly lifted his head. On his fair cheeks was a smile full of wicked charm, masking his true feelings beneath that dazzling grin, making them impossible to discern.

Rivers’ lips pressed into a straight line. He narrowed his eyes, their depths probing as he watched Arthur intently. He was observing, searching Arthur’s expression for any sign of weakness. He could not believe that an eighteen-year-old “boy” could, in the blink of an eye, shift from raging fury to effortless mirth without betraying a single emotion. Perhaps such cunning existed, but it should not belong to Arthur.

Arthur’s lips curved in a confident, devil-may-care smile as he gazed at Rivers—his father, the man who scrutinized him so relentlessly—with unmistakable ease.

“What is it, Father? Why are you suddenly looking at me like that?” Arthur asked carelessly, his fingers tapping the tabletop with deliberate nonchalance.

At these words, Rivers’ expression flickered with a brief confusion before he quickly regained composure, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his chest.

“Heh... Joseph, you’ve grown up.” In that one fleeting instant, you became an adult, Rivers remarked, his tone laden with meaning.

“Everyone must grow up, eventually,” Arthur replied, smiling at Rivers. “Especially the son of his father.” All the more reason to grow up early.

“Quite right. You’re absolutely right. All the men of the Rivers family should be this way.” As Rivers spoke, his gaze drifted past Arthur, settling on the portrait behind him.

It was a portrait of a man—exceptionally handsome and striking—dressed in the finery of a medieval court, his chest adorned with medals. His left hand was tucked behind his back, his right gloved in white, gripping a court sword with a golden hilt. Luxuriant golden curls cascaded over his shoulders, a broad, smooth forehead, thick golden brows, deep sky-blue eyes, a high-bridged nose, and rose-hued lips. At this moment, he seemed to be looking directly at Rivers.

Rivers stared at the portrait, momentarily lost in thought.

“Father—” Arthur called softly. Rivers snapped out of his reverie, looked at Arthur, and suddenly burst into laughter. “Hahaha—” When the laughter faded, he regarded Arthur with a gaze so complex it was impossible to read.

“You two are truly alike.”

Arthur was taken aback. He turned his head slowly to follow Rivers’ gaze, and when he saw the portrait, he was astonished!

The man in the painting looked exactly like him!

Yes, if he had that same mane of golden curls, he would have no doubt that he was looking at his own portrait.

“That’s George Rivers, isn’t it?” Arthur asked in a gentle voice.

“Yes. He was the founder of our Rivers family,” Rivers replied, his voice betraying irrepressible reverence.

“Is that so?” Arthur gazed at George as though staring at his own reflection.

“But—” Suddenly, Rivers’ tone shifted, dark and peculiar. “But he abandoned the entire family for a woman!”

Arthur whipped his head around, disbelief written all over his face. He stared at Rivers, whose usual composure was now unhinged, his eyes tinged red.

“Hahaha, to think that for a woman he could discard his family without a second thought,” Rivers’ expression twisted with every word. “Just for a woman, he forsook the family. He is the glory of the Rivers line, but also our indelible shame!”

Rivers laughed maniacally, his face contorted with rage. “So, from that day on, I swore I would never repeat his mistake.” He fixed his gaze on Arthur. “Women, to me, are nothing but tools for procreation!” As he spoke, he extended his right hand and gently stroked the top of Arthur’s head. “And your mother’s value lies in this—she gave birth to you, a son of worth! Hahaha, so when she pathetically told me she loved me, all I felt was insulted—insulted by an inferior being.”

——The recollection is not yet over——