"Lord Hiashi, what's wrong? You don't look well. Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
The gentle voice came from the young man in front of him, carrying a faint note of concern—but not the slightest trace of hatred or disgust.
Was it... an illusion?
Hyuga Hiashi, whose face had gone stiff and slightly pale under the icy gaze and hateful stare that had made him feel as though he had fallen into an ice cellar, looked at the harmless, smiling young man before him. He froze slightly, and the stiff pallor on his face gradually turned into astonishment.
At this moment, the young man before him showed nothing but gentleness, harmlessness, and a faint hint of concern. Where was there any sign of hatred?
The cold, hateful gaze he had seen the instant the young man turned around simply could not be connected to the mature steadiness hidden in the young man's eyes now, nor to the gentleness and faint concern he displayed.
Was I too tired?
Did I see it wrong? This doubtful thought then surfaced in his mind.
At this moment, he simply could not connect his current assistant with that hateful gaze.
Now that he looked at it, this young man had merely expressed his admiration and respect for his father. Where was there any insincerity or hatred? Besides, he had not slept properly for the past two days and one night, and he had remained anxious the entire time. It seemed reasonable that he might have seen things wrong or even hallucinated.
"Lord Hiashi?"
Perhaps seeing that he had remained silent for some time, the young man before him spoke again.
"It's nothing. I've been a little tired these past few days."
Hyuga Hiashi was, after all, the head of a clan. Once he decided that he