Can anyone guess what happened next? Well... the dining table in front of me had been cleared. Plates were carried away like casualties of war—several spoons snapped, the family's pride slightly fractured, and one lightstick now had more investors than a royal corporation.
Now, the table was filled with porcelain cups, white with gold trim. The aroma of warm black tea rose slowly, mixed with the scent of orange leaves and something very expensive—the scent of money.
The servant poured the last of the tea with a perfect motion.Plup. The cup belonging to Duke Hohenberg, my father, was bypassed... in a sense—it was filled, but remained untouched.
My father leaned back in his chair. A perfect Ducal posture. Square shoulders. A cold gaze. An aura of I-am-exhausted-with-my-children's-chaos.
