Downstairs, inside the dining room, the once vibrant sparks dancing upon the candles begin to wane. As time passes, the wax melts, forming droplets that fall silently to the ground. The corners of the room gradually succumb to deeper shadows as the last flickering candlelight dims, its illumination fading into a gentle, barely discernible glow.

Around the dining table, Oliver, Gregory, and Frederick engaged in a lively discussion, their voices carrying across the room while the attentive maids listened.

"I propose that during the nighttime, we take precautions by barricading all the doors and windows in this mansion. It's crucial to keep every curtain closed and ensure that all doors are securely locked," Gregory suggested, leaning on the sturdy wooden table.

"That's quite a good idea," Oliver thought.

"Uh-huh. And!" Gregory's eyes gleamed as he raised a finger. "We should maintain this practical system until Cal and the other prisoners are returned to their rightful cells."

"I believe that approach could work out," Frederick smiled.

"I agree," Oliver nodded.

Gregory lifted a glass of wine, taking a small, contemplative sip. He then cleared his throat and glanced at his spouse. "Hey," he called out with a deep voice.

"Yes, Greg?" Oliver responded.

Setting the wine glass back down, Gregory's gaze dropped to his feet, and his lips pressed together tightly. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke. "You know... all this mess could have been avoided if you had simply agreed to execute Cal in the first place."

"Greg..." Oliver's eyes widened with disbelief. "Cal. Is. Your. Father," he stated.

"Ugh..." Gregory sighed, shutting his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows in contemplation. "I know," he mumbled, grappling with conflicting emotions.

"You have to show mercy," Oliver implored, rolling his eyes slightly.

Gregory scoffed. "Show mercy to those who have shown none themselves? How ironic," he retorted. "Will you simply forget he has caused you immeasurable pain? He robbed you of your entire childhood," he argued.

Oliver maintained his composure, his voice calm but firm. "It's in the past," he stated.

"The past that keeps bringing you down even in the present," Gregory countered.

"..." The tension in the room escalated as Oliver stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he glared at his spouse. "Excuse me?" he questioned, raising a brow.

"Forgive me, Oli," Gregory huffed. "But it's something that needs to be said."

Oliver was momentarily speechless as his emotions twirled within him. "I..."

Gregory stepped closer to Oliver, gently caressing the side of his cheek. "Look, Oliver. I have mercy for everyone... but Cal... he..." Gregory took a deep breath and ventured. "...He caused me pain throughout my life, always imposing his will upon me. And it's not just that..." Gregory's voice softened to a whisper, his words barely audible. "He has brought countless struggles into your life, which I wish had never happened to you," he admitted. "I constantly strive to forget and ignore the harsh fact that your soul is united to the son of the man who... who took away your family..."

Tears welled up in Oliver's eyes, his voice choked with emotion as he sniffled. He locked gazes with Gregory, his jaw trembling. "Greg..." he moaned.

"...I'm sorry..." Gregory mumbled.

Oliver shook his head, gently pushing Gregory's hand away from his cheek. "...Greg, we have no right to condemn any soul to death. We are all descendants of flawed men; we carry the burden of sin. Thus, we possess no power to take a life," Oliver argued, and his voice shook. He fought back tears with a loud sniff. "...Only those who have never sinned, who are truly blameless, can rightfully pass judgment on the immoral."

Gregory nodded, acknowledging Oliver's perspective. "...Indeed, we must adhere to the laws of the new covenant, which remove our authority to execute those who engage in immoral acts like adultery and sodomy," he stated. "...However, doing a certain crime that takes away one's life is still punishable by death, according to the law."

Oliver's jaw dropped open as he turned to look at Frederick. "...Dad...?" he uttered.

Frederick let out a heavy sigh, his gaze falling downward. "...I... I have to align myself with Gregory's viewpoint," he admitted. "...Based on this argument, I believe that Cal... must face the consequences of death."

Gregory straightened his back as he placed his hands behind him. "You hear that?" He declared, "Cal must be put to death."

Oliver's voice trembled with fear as he pleaded, "Stop it, you two. You're all scaring me..."

Instantly realizing the impact of his words, Gregory's expression softened, and he wrapped an arm around Oliver, expressing remorse. "Oh... I'm sorry..." Gregory apologised, his voice filled with guilt and pity. "Sorry..."

     Oliver's senses sharpen as he catches the growing volume of footsteps, their mumbled murmurs becoming more audible by the second. His head swiftly turns to the left, where Sophia, Edgar, Sarrah, and Bethany reappear in the dining room. The thumping of the creaking wooden floorboards accompanies their return, filling the room with faint sounds.

"The children are asleep," Sophia announced as they approached the group at the dining table.

Oliver took a long, deep breath as he tried to steady himself. "...Alright, then. I'll join them in their room," Oliver said. He wasted no time, swiftly pacing out of the dining room, driven by the urge to be with his children.

"Wait!" Sophia's voice rang out.

Oliver halted in his tracks, turning to face Sophia. "Yes?" he responded.

"Has the discussion concluded?" Sophia asked.

Oliver's gaze dropped to the ground, his head shaking hesitantly. "No."

"Does that mean you still have more to say in this conversation?" Sophia persisted, her questioning gaze fixed on Oliver.

"Yes..." Oliver leered at Gregory.

A pang of anguish stabbed through Gregory's heart, the weight of Oliver's gaze penetrating his very being, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

"...Then, perhaps you should stay here and continue the discussion," Sophia suggested.

"Mhm. But, since you'll be staying down here, we need someone to volunteer and go upstairs to guard the children in their bedroom," Bethany informed Oliver.

"Oh! I'll be on it!" Edgar grinned as he hastened out of the dining room.

Oliver returned to the dining table, resting his hands on its surface. He then took a deep breath, feeling the weight settling upon him, before exhaling slowly through his mouth. "...The fate of Cal will be decided by the court, not by us," he stated, directing his words to his lover.