The garden of the castle was bathed in the soft light of the late afternoon sun, the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers drifting in the air. Theodore and Cormac stood by a stone wall, the quiet hum of the garden around them contrasting the tension in their conversation.

"I tried to get close to her," Cormac said, the words tinged with frustration as he glanced out across the neatly kept grounds. "I really did. But your ps/cho little sis—"

"My what?" Theodore snapped, cutting him off.

Cormac's words hung in the air, the sudden edge in Theodore’s tone catching him off guard.

"My what?" Theodore repeated, stepping closer, his stance firm and commanding.

Cormac hesitated, his words stumbling over each other. He opened his mouth to backpedal but closed it again, realizing that the misstep was bigger than he anticipated.

"Forget it," Cormac muttered, trying to recover, though the tension in his voice was unmistakable.

But Theodore was unrelenting, his eyes narrowing as he waited for the response.

"Say it again," Theodore demanded, his voice low. "I want to hear it."

Cormac swallowed, avoiding Theodore's piercing gaze, suddenly feeling very small under the weight of his intensity.

"Just... difficult," Cormac muttered, trying to play it off as if the heat had already passed.

Theodore didn’t say a word, but the silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Slowly, he took a deep breath, letting the tension settle, though his posture never relaxed.

"Yeah," Theodore finally said, his voice calm, but the warning clear. "That's what I thought."

For a long moment, Cormac didn’t move. The faint sound of birdsong and rustling leaves filled the silence, and with that, the world seemed to return to its usual pace. But the weight of what had just passed between them lingered in the air, unspoken and undeniable.