Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 518

“Damien, what’s wrong?” The other kids in his class crowded around, curiosity lighting up their faces.

Damien didn’t answer. Clutching a piece of clothing to his chest, he broke down in loud, helpless sobs.

When he returned to Vaughn Manor, he looked utterly drained. Even Nadine, the housekeeper, could tell something was weighing on him.

“Young master, what happened?” she asked gently. “Your teacher called and said you cried during recess. Did Dafina hit you?”

Everyone in the Vaughn household kept a close eye on Damien’s every move. Nadine only knew that, after exchanging a few words with Dafina, Damien had burst into tears.

Damien shook his head. “Daph didn’t hit me. Just leave me alone, okay? I want to be by myself.”

He retreated to his room and shut the door. From his backpack, he took out the bundle of clothing, wrapped carefully in brown paper.

Sitting on his bed, he hugged the shirt close, burying his face in the fabric. The familiar scent filled his nose, comforting and warm, like being held safe in his mother’s arms.

For a moment, the world felt steady again. But Damien knew that he couldn’t hold on to that scent forever—any more than he could hold on to Selene.

And Daph had told him: that was the last shirt she’d ever give him. There wouldn’t be any more. From now on, they weren’t family anymore.

A choked sob escaped him.

Tears spilled over, and Damien hurried to wipe his face, holding the shirt away so he wouldn’t stain Selene’s last gift with tears or snot.

This was the only thing he had left from Selene. He had to cherish it.

Late that night, Harrison returned home. Nadine quickly updated him on Damien’s day at school.

“The teacher said the young master spoke to Dafina, and then he just started crying. I’m sure Dafina must have hit him. He’s probably too proud to admit it, since she’s his sister. When I brought up dinner, he hardly touched a thing.”

His icy gaze pinned Nadine in place. She froze on the stairs, unable to utter another word.

“Dad?”

Hearing Harrison’s voice echo through the hall, Damien emerged from his room.

Standing at the top of the stairs, he called out, almost proudly, “I got Mom’s shirt today.”

Harrison’s cool eyes flickered over to his son.

“I’ll show you, but only if you come to my room,” Damien added, wary of Nadine, as if afraid she might try to take the shirt away from him.

Leading Harrison upstairs, Damien carefully showed him the shirt he’d managed to keep.