[Thorenvald Estate—Dining Hall—Leif's POV]
The dining hall felt like a crime scene.
No one was dead (yet), but the silence could've buried a hundred bodies. The chandelier above glimmered too brightly, the silverware gleamed like interrogation tools, and the only thing louder than my heartbeat was the clink of Alina's spoon against her plate.
Across the long mahogany table, my parents sat like two marble statues—graceful, elegant, and absolutely terrifying.
Father's posture was perfect, his expression carved from stone. Mother… she hadn't looked at me once. Not even a glance. Just methodically cutting her roast lamb like it had personally offended her.
So yeah.
Totally not awkward.
Totally not the aftermath of "Hi, I'm gay and in love with a Duke."
Zephyy sat curled on the empty chair beside me, nibbling on a piece of bread like he was watching the most thrilling drama in town.
