Sora held her breath, half hoping that the maid would give a reply that would somewhat resolve this situation.
It was still all a mystery to Sora, but she decided to make the most out of it.
“I shall tell you when you are feeling better, Milord,” the maid said, and started straightening the bedsheets to a presentable manner.
“Where is my brother?” he rasped, and then coughed.
“My Lord Samael has already recuperated,” the maid answered. “You shall see him when the time is fit.”
“Recovered from what?” the boy insisted. The maid’s temper obviously reached a boiling point.
“My Lord Aysen, you must understand that I cannot answer the questions you seek answers to. You will have to ask your brother,” she said, a spark of anger in her green eyes.
“Why? Where is my mother?” Aysen asked, and coughed again.
The maid’s face became pale.
“That is for My Lord’s brother to tell you,” she said, and swept away some hair from her face.