canary in cage

Isri chuckled, dimmed the lights in the room, closed the door and walked out.

Isri has always kept his promise, since the moment he closed the door, he never came in again, not even a drop of water was delivered.

Cecil was leaning against the cage, his eyes were downcast and his head was tilted sideways. On the snow-white robe were a few copper wire-wound roses, and his slender ankles were covered with iron chains that were incompatible with this picture.

The house was really warm. Cecil stretched his legs straight into the goose down, with gauze wrapped around his calves, and he lay down on the blanket as soon as his body was loose.

Much warmer than mainland East Asia...

Ke Luoman... Cecil closed his eyes gently, he didn't even see Luoman for the last time.

He is completely useless, a useless nobleman who is pampered and raised to a high place.

At this time, the God Lord punished him.

—

The sunlight on the upper layer of the clouds squeezed through the gaps, passed through the clouds, and sprinkled spots on the ground. Some people who believed in God knelt on the ground one after another. They became this kind of light—the Holy Light of Jesus.

Isri stood in front of the window, slowly arranging the flowers in the vase, gently picking up the leaves with slender porcelain-white fingers, wiping off the water drops on them, moving the ends of his eyes imperceptibly, and curling up the corners of his lips. Seductive smile.

The disobedient bird should be tuned/taught/taught/taught, otherwise this little pet will never yield to you.

Sehir, who was lying in the cage, had nothing to do, so he turned sideways and opened his eyes, took the rose on the blanket and looked at it.

The copper wire is extremely delicate, and it is different from the commercial roses sold in the market. This is a wild rose that grows on the top of the mountain.

Cecil sat up, looked at the rose in his hand, and suddenly remembered something. The one in his hand was almost exactly the same as the one he picked for Isri last time.

Cecil raised Rose slightly, facing the dim light in front of him, his eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of disbelief flashed in his eyes, and his lips trembled slightly.

"How long have you been laying out this plan?"

"Or, was that what you wanted to do from the beginning?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Cecil turned around, and his eyes fell on Isri who just entered the door. Isri was holding a tray in his hand, his expression remained unchanged. He closed the door and walked to the side of the cage. The towel is soaked and taken out.

"The young master is so smart, I think such a simple question should not trouble you."

As he spoke, Yisli put the towel in his hand into the cage, and opened his mouth: "Master, it's night, you should rest."

Cecil froze for a moment, looking at the closed curtains.

It was night so soon, Cehir wiped his face hastily a few times, and handed the towel to Isri.

"See you tomorrow, master."

Isri didn't say a single extra word, after finishing his work, he turned around and walked out again.

Sehir, who had lost the concept of time, didn't feel sleepy at all now, so he could only lie on the blanket and play with the roses on the ground boredly.

After an unknown period of time, his eyes finally became a little sleepy. Cecil closed his eyes, holding an extremely sloppy rose in his hand, and the corners of his lips raised slightly.

Looks like you'll be impatient too, Isri.

—

"Good morning, young master." Isri still held the tray from last night in his hand, looking down at the person lying in the middle of the cage.

Because of his sleeping appearance, Cehir rubbed his robe to his thighs, and his slender and straight legs were undisguised in front of Isri, and his short blond hair was entangled with the velvet on the ground.

It's... just like a noble, unclean angel, imprisoned by the demons of hell.

Before Cecil woke up, Isri frowned, turned around and took out the spare medicine box from the cabinet, opened the cage and walked in.

Cecil, who heard the noise, frowned, and opened his eyes after a while. When he saw Isri, he sat up instantly from the ground and quickly pulled down the clothes on his body.

Seeing this, Isri stretched out his hand and pulled Cecil's ankle, pulling Cehir back.

"Master's toiletries are on the left, I'll change your medicine for you."

Isri narrated the matter, although the tone was flat, but the strength in his hands was completely opposite.

Cehir regained his composure, glanced at Isri, turned sideways and slowly wiped his face with a towel, the excess water drops on the towel seeped into the chapped lips, causing Cecir to gasp in pain Take a breath.

His throat was dry and aching, so Cecil continued to stare at Isri, telling him to beg the person in front of him, it is absolutely impossible!

How could he beg Isri...Although he had begged before, but this time the nature was completely different, he refused!

Isri raised his eyes to meet Cecil's gaze, and the corner of his lips raised a slight smile again.

It seems that this little bird still doesn't understand his current situation.

Isri moved very slowly, he was admiring this work of art created by God, smooth, white, flawless, even a little bit of injury is so alluring.

It's just that... the desire in Isri's eyes has subsided.

However, the artwork is a bit dirty...

"Has today's newspaper been delivered?" In the stalemate between the two, Cecil abruptly interrupted/entered a sentence.

"Here we go."

"I want to see."

"Okay, wait a minute, master, I'll get it."

Isri got up, turned around and walked out. Only then did Cecil notice something was wrong.

Ever since he was brought back, Yisili has never saluted again. Yisili, who had to perform etiquette even at the end of the meal before, doesn't even have the most basic way of saluting now.

Cecil stared at the door, feeling a chill in his heart, but was suppressed by Yi Sili who was standing at the door in an instant.

Is was expressionless, and handed the newspaper in his hand to Cecil, and squatted down to treat the wound on his calf again.

The above are all trivial things, almost all of which are civil disputes. The only thing worth noting is the matter of the Holy Son in the church. Sehir, who read the myth of himself in the newspaper, only felt a headache for a while.

Those pedantic people...

Just as he thought it was nothing serious, just when he was about to put the newspaper aside, suddenly, the corner of his eyes caught a line of typing on the back of the newspaper.

Cecil's nerves tightened, and he quickly opened the newspaper, staring at the topmost, most eye-catching line of characters with wide eyes.

"The queen invited the Critics family to the party, but was rejected." Cecil looked down, and the time happened to be yesterday.

Cecil frowned, with a flash of anger in his eyes, he threw the newspaper aside, and shouted at Isri.

The author has something to say:

Sehir’s subconscious tends to self-destruct, and there is a foreshadowing ahead, so he doesn’t care too much about being locked in a cage. It’s just a shock and it’s over. What I wrote is justified, isn’t it? The so-called fabrication out of thin air.