To put it bluntly, Sylas' hostility toward Soren did not remain as mere cold glares or mocking words.
It grew into something intended and calculated.
What began as silent disdain slowly twisted into quiet cruelty. Without ever dirtying his own hands, Sylas went as far as to hire people to harass Soren behind the scenes. He paid them in secret, gave simple instructions, and ensured that nothing could ever be traced back to him.
Soren, of course, never knew.
The coincidences started small.
A misplaced herb, a torn cloak.
Servants who suddenly refused to meet his eyes and treated him more harshly than usual. Then came the whispers around the encampment, the subtle shoulder checks, the deliberate spilling of soup on his fur robe.
Strangers seemed to sneer at him for no reason while knights nudged at him more. Stable boys even laughed when he passed.
And Soren, the poor and resigned Soren accepted it all without question.
