Nolan and Seira waited quietly in the parlor. The atmosphere was tense, since it was just the two of them, with no servants around to prepare drinks or snacks.
"Father seems to be doing this on purpose," Seira remarked, a hint of dissatisfaction in her voice.
Nolan simply smiled. "Doesn't that make sense? This is a serious matter. It's better if no one comes in and overhears our conversation later. So don't hate that old man. Otherwise, he'll beat me up."
Nolan sighed helplessly. Seira was deeply loved by that old man.
If Seira truly came to hate him, Nolan knew he would be the first to suffer.
Seira fell silent, though the lingering resentment was still written clearly on her face.
Nolan ignored it and waited calmly. A few minutes later, footsteps echoed from the doorway.
Both of them looked up and saw Ragan walking toward them with a flat expression.
They quickly stood, clasped their hands, and bowed slightly.
"Welcome, Father," they greeted.
