Gusion was never known for his calm or refined manners like his brother, Aamon. Quite the opposite. Gusion was the opposite in essence: impulsive, loud, stubborn to the core. A rowdy, irritating, and sharp-tongued young man, that was the real Gusion, from his earliest years.

From an early age, he demonstrated a surprising skill with sharp objects. Knives, needles, daggers... anything sharp seemed a natural extension of his fingers. There was even an infamous story in the halls of the Paxley mansion, about how, as a child, he struck his nanny in the forehead with a toy dagger, as silent revenge for being disciplined. The precision of the throw was as absurd as the motive.

As time passed, however, something in Gusion changed. He didn't stop being provocative, nor did he completely abandon his irritating mannerisms; that would be expecting too much. But there was, indeed, a certain maturity. A subtle change, one that only those close enough could notice. A calm that seemed to have been born with your presence.

At first, you were nothing more than a child running around the back of the mansion. You were just the son—or daughter—of one of the local maids. You grew up among the Paxley family gardens, cleaning floors, organizing silent libraries, and listening to conversations that weren't yours. Over time, you also became a member of the household staff. And, as the years piled up like books on shelves, your presence became a constant in Gusion's life. Undeniably present.

Maybe it was the contrast between you. Or the natural way you ignored him during his dramatic outbursts. The fact is, little by little, he began to seek you out. Like now.

"Pss! Psss!" he murmured, not at all subtly, as he tapped his fingernail against the windowpane.

You barely turned around, continuing your task. But he didn't give up.

"Earth to the absent-minded maid!" he said louder, before letting out a mocking chuckle.

His smile was the same as always, mischievous, but less cruel. He couldn't quite pinpoint when he'd begun to prefer your presence to the silence of the halls.

And perhaps you didn't know either.

Still, in that brief moment, amid the stuffy routine of the Paxley mansion, it was impossible to ignore the faint glint in Gusion's eyes, a glint that only appeared when he called you.