canary in cage

The man was speechless in shock from Isri's gaze, and the hand holding the notebook trembled slightly.

"No... nothing... nothing, sorry to bother you, I'm leaving first."

The man ran away.

By the time Cecil came down from upstairs, Isri had already prepared breakfast and put it on the dining table, and everything was just right, exactly.

Today is the day of the Holy Son's succession. The churches in Green Lanka started to prepare early in the morning, and the residents on the street got up early and waited by the roadside. It is their dream to be favored by the Holy Son.

Finally, at noon, the familiar carriage in the distance finally drove in front of people's eyes, and everyone cheered.

Although Sehir, who was sitting in the carriage, was excited about the inheritance of the Holy Son, he didn't have the time to care about these people who took a fancy to the identity of the Holy Son.

The carriage stopped on the opposite side of the church, and Isri helped Cehir off the car, and the corners of his lips curled up: "Master, I'll wait for you here."

"Aren't you going in?" Cecil asked suspiciously.

Isri was still respectful, bowed and said: "Only you, young master, are my gods, and I only believe in you."

Cehir originally thought that what Isri said was just a joke, but he didn't expect it to be true. In an instant, the hairs on his back stood up, and he turned around, stepped over the steps and walked towards the opposite side.

Even at this moment, Cehir was thinking, if he ran now, would Isri catch up.

But everything is just a flash of his thoughts, he told himself to think long-term.

The paintings on the glazed windows in the church are exquisite, the angel's wings wrap themselves, and the long golden hair hangs down at the waist, delicate and long.

"Your Excellency, please change into this dress." A nun held a tray with a pure white robe on it.

Cecil glanced at it, then took the robe off the tray. The clothes are very simple, just put it on over your head.

For a moment, Cehir was a little puzzled, why the clothes of the nobles were so complicated.

The white robe was dragged at the ankles, which well concealed the clothes underneath, and the short golden and holy hair was in the church, as if declaring that this is a child born of an angel, and he is supreme.

The ceremony began. The priest stood on the prayer platform holding the Bible. The faint sunlight permeated through the glass window above his head and rested on the priest's body.

"Never forget that the Whole Son is your salvation, because the Whole Son is your soul, God's creation, it is yours, yours, and God's, and you are set free for glory, glory It is your inheritance, the Creator bestowed it on your soul."

The voice of the priest echoed in the church, and because of the weather, a beam of light hit Cehir's position in an unbiased position.

Suddenly, there was a surprised voice in the church, and these superstitious people began to pray one after another, begging for the protection of the Holy Son.

The priest was surprised for a while, but the holy words on his lips did not stop.

"My dear child of Cehir, from today onwards, you are the Holy Son of the West Asia continent. Please remember the motto of the Holy Son and protect the people of the Goddess."

Cecil raised his head, looked at the priest, and bent his waist to [-] degrees: "I understand, I will worship the goddess of Green Lanka and protect the people of the goddess."

The whole process took no more than ten minutes, but the faces outside Isli Station were getting more and more gloomy.

He could hear the voice of Sehir praying inside, and his holy and noble Sehir, his god, was being prayed by others.

Isri sat on the carriage, pulling the reins tightly in his hands. Looking in the direction of the church, he had a terrifying thought.

If the young master is locked up, will the young master belong to him forever, and those sapphire blue eyes can look at him every day.

He was going crazy, but he couldn't do it now, the young master's plan hadn't succeeded yet, everything had just begun, he couldn't do it now.

Isri tried his best to restrain his own thoughts, and his urge to rush into the church and pull Cehir out, the reins were tightly wrapped around his palms through the gloves.

After taking off his robe, Cecil slipped away through the back door of the church. He didn't want to be surrounded by people, let alone be begged by those pedantic humans.

The identity of the Holy Son is the best choice for him to stabilize his position, and he has no choice.

"Isri, let's go."

Cehir walked up to Isri and said, Yisri's eyes fell on Cehir's body, a trace of desire flashed in his eyes, and after being suppressed, a smile appeared on his face again: "Okay, master. "

Even though the carriage traveled a certain distance, people still surrounded the roadside, staring straight at the passing carriage.

When Cecil returned to the mansion, he didn't rest for a few minutes before being visited one after another.

In these short two days, it seems that the family name of Kritis has been branded out, and these greedy nobles have begun to offer him an olive branch.

They don't hesitate to spend a lot of money to give themselves gold and silver treasures, even priceless gems and diamonds, just to win over themselves.

Cecil felt that the matter was a bit ridiculous, and seeing the thick stack of prom invitations in Isri's hand, his head suddenly became dilated.

Isri put the invitation letter on the table, and said softly, "Do I need to decline all of them?"

Cecil stretched out his hand and spread the invitation letter on the table, and the black envelope with gold thread attracted his attention.

"Which company is this from?" Cecil opened his mouth and asked, raised his hand, picked up your knife and began to slowly cut open the envelope.

Isri said respectfully: "It belongs to the Lake family."

The envelope was torn out, and the letter paper inside was also black. The pen on it was made with a special dip made of gold powder. The fine lines of the strokes slid across the soft paper, and the content inside was elegant and polite.

"Dear Duke Christis, please forgive my presumptuousness, I hope you can accept my invitation to you tonight and come to my humble house."

Cecil folded the letter paper, put it aside, and looked at Isri: "Reject the others, and go here tonight."

"Okay, sir."

Isri held the invitation letter and was about to leave when Cehir suddenly stopped him.

"Send back the gems and diamonds that were sent."

Isri was stunned for a second, the tails of his eyes moved upwards slightly, his eyes couldn't figure out the emotions, and he bowed and said, "Yes."

Although he wouldn't mind no matter what Cehir did, but such a pure and untainted Cehir was his god, the god he worshiped.

Only in this way does he desire to lock people up and appreciate them slowly.

Sehir is his god, the pet of his desires, his hopeless salvation from nothingness.

Isri pushed the hair on the side of the face behind the ears, and the well-defined jawline made the person more perfect and refined.

A slim deacon uniform wraps the smooth curves of the whole body. If you don't look closely, you may think that Isri is from that noble family.

"Master, which dress do you need tonight?" Isri asked with a bow.