At the Boyd Mansion, a shadow began to cast itself over Percival Ellington’s usually charming features.
Truth be told, he had not frequented the Boyd Mansion often, but the few times he did, his visits invariably ended with Cecilia in tears.
As a kid, he could not fathom why the Boyds had such contempt for his mother. As he grew up, the reasons became apparent, and he stopped coming altogether.
Vivienne gazed out the car window. The Boyd Mansion was a majestic sight, grander even than the Brooks Mansion, which Maddox Perez had offhandedly referred to as "little space."
"Percival, Ma'am, we've arrived," announced Thomas as he switched off the engine and stepped out to open the car door.
Percival helped Vivienne out of the car, and they stood in front of the massive gates of the Boyd Mansion. His eyes, deep as the ocean, seemed unfathomable.
He stepped forward and rang the doorbell.
"Who's there?" Came an inquiry through the intercom.
A slight frown creased Percival’s brow as he replied, "Percival."
There was a momentary pause on the other end before the gate was buzzed open.
The wrought iron gate swung open slowly, yet curiously, no one came out to greet them.
Percival’s frown deepened, a thin veil of anger enveloping him.
Vivienne gently tapped the back of his hand and offered a reassuring smile.
The anger surrounding Percival dissipated instantly, and with a smile, he took Vivienne’s hand, and they walked in together.
At the entrance, two servants stood aside, revealing a man in a casual suit, the Boyd family butler. "Mr. Ellington, I presume. Please come in. The matriarch has been awaiting you."
Percival did not respond, intending to proceed with Vivienne.
Unexpectedly, the butler stepped in their way.
Had Vivienne not been holding his hand, Percival was sure he would have taken off the butler’s arm with a single, swift blow.
"Mr. Ellington, guests must change their shoes upon entry and proceed to the decontamination room for a cleansing shower before they can meet with the matriarch. You haven't forgotten our rules, have you?"
Both Percival and Vivienne's expressions darkened.
Changing shoes was one thing, but a decontamination shower?
Was the Boyd Mansion hiding a royal palace?
Requiring sterile processing before entry?
Vivienne stepped forward, gripping the butler's arm with her ring-adorned hand. A gentle squeeze was all it took for the sound of cracking bones to echo.
Pain shot through the butler’s head, and as he was about to curse, he caught sight of the ring on Vivienne's finger.
Was that the heirloom ring of the Boyd family head?
How did it end up in the hands of this young woman?
Reading through the butler’s expression, Vivienne’s lips curved slightly upward. "Isn't there a Boyd family rule that requires one to kneel to greet the head? You haven't forgotten that, right?"
The butler, clutching his limp arm, knelt in panic. "Greetings, Ma’am."
The Boyd family had many such protocols. In fact, many families did, but as time passed and the world changed, these rules were slowly forgotten, especially by the younger generation, who would never truly expect someone to kneel in greeting.
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