"Ren?" Zayden waved his hand in front of the young man, growing a little impatient. It was a simple question. Why was he taking so long to answer?
Ren hesitated, his chest tightening. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I… I never knew my birthday."
Zayden froze. For a heartbeat, he said nothing—just stared at him.
Ren fidgeted with his hands, avoiding his gaze.
"I… I lied," he laughed quietly. "About my parents. They died when I was… a child. I never knew them." He paused.
And I was raised in an orphanage? But Revhara didn't have any of that. Should I just let him assume I grew up somehow?
Zayden didn't know how to feel—whether to be mad because he'd been lied to again, or relieved because Ren was truly opening up, being honest with him. Still, he quietly listened without snapping.
Ren's throat turned dry, and the words stuck in his mouth.
"M-My Lord, if you're mad, I understand—"
