Breakfast

Everyone was surprised to see Dante ok his feet. They expected he would at least take a week or two to recover. Even Dante couldn't explain the speedy recovery. Though his wounds were still fresh, they didn't hurt nearly as much as they should have.

Most people consider speedy recovery a good thing until Dante was involved, then it became sorcery. He kept his eyes on the ground, walking briskly to the kitchen.

"Ahhh! Here you are! I was almost sure you wouldn't survive yesterday's torture. Don't you get tired of proving us wrong?" Guirello asked with a sweet smile like his words were innocent.

Dante lowered his gaze, willing the ache in his heart to disappear. He had existed in this misery for twenty-one years. One would think he would have gotten used to hurtful words.

"Is there anything you want me to do today, sir?" He politely asked. Guirello took a look around the kitchen.

"Mmm.. nothing for now. How about you help yourself with some leftovers?".

Dante looked up,