[color=darkgray]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3EdPgr4.png[/img]
[url=https://i.imgur.com/6gciQD1.jpg?1]Pancake-eater Outfit[/url][/center]
[Color=salmon][b]Time:[/b][/color]10 a.m. to 11 a.m.
[Color=salmon][b]Location:[/b][/color] Pancakes at the Park
[Color=salmon][b]Interaction:[/b][/color] Charlotte [@princess], John [@Conscripts], Devan [@Prosaic], 
[Color=salmon][b]Mention:[/b][/color] Mayet [@13org][hr] 
[I]10 a.m.[/I]

Pancakes at the park had been a disaster, and despite Lorenzo not having been enthused to go initially, the opportunity for waffles made going worth it. There was also…

[Color=salmon][I]Lottie…[/I][/color] For the second time and the second day he had caused an embarrassing scene. Even if he didn't believe it was his fault initially, it might have been best to simply leave. Unfortunately, hindsight was the only thing Lorenzo gained from going to the park. No waffles or pancakes had found his stomach, only adding to his spiraling. 

And then there was Mayet. The duke hoped the young royal would omit him from her time spent at the park. The shame he felt was heavy enough to keep him absolutely speechless on the short walk back to the estate. He didn't even have the energy to properly greet his recently arrived nephew, only giving the young man a forced smile and nod.

Once they had entered the estate, Delilah had been kind enough to lead them all to the drawing room, but Lorenzo took a much-needed detour toward the kitchen.

[Color=salmon]“I will join you all in a bit.”[/color]
[/color] He lied. The man couldn't bear to face them after what he just did to them. Besides, he needed to eat something and perhaps take a much-needed dose of his comfort medicine. In the kitchen, his eyes met Chef Gilbert who raised a brow at his sudden entrance wondering what the duke might desire after eating at the park. [Color=salmon]“Could you fix me something, anything really… And have Nathaniel take it to my room… please.”[/color] The way the Duke's gaze slowly dropped away from the direct eye contact he'd been giving Gilbert was all the chef needed to know what kind of mood he was in. 

[Color=7bcdc8]“I won't be long, my lord.”[/color] Gilbert gave Lorenzo a nod that allowed the down duke to shuffle out of the kitchen and travel straight into his bedroom. 

[I]11 a.m.[/I]

[Color=salmon][I]Is the desire to change one's self… one's being… a betrayal towards who I am? Raising a sharp jagged blade of doubt… of hate… to slaughter my helpless form… a lamb? Perhaps this, yes… Yes, I'm a traitor to me… yet my sacrifice would bear result. To strength… becoming…. like that of a ram…………..

But have I not tried? Attempted? Failed? Suffered? Oh, that devil made sure of it… Kept me from death to writhe in this pain… this life. Without love or embrace…. a wife…. No no, that wasn't him…. Or was it? He did not feed me the drink or create that strife…. His only crime- his only crime… was preventing me from plunging it into my soul…. the jagged blade of that knife….[/I][/color]

Lorenzo lay on his back, body sprawled out on his messy bed. He has pulled and ruffled the sheets in his opioid-induced stupor. His relaxed and smiling expression could be the illustration of true bliss from a dedicated artist. On his nightstand sat an opened dark-tinted bottle with a label containing scrawled writing reading, “The Remedy"

[Color=salmon]“Yes… this is truly [I]it[/I].”[/color]