The air hung heavy, still and silent. No one dared to breathe.
Remembering their master's usual temper, the people in the room instinctively glanced his way.
The man, always cold and distant, lifted his eyes and looked at the woman for a few seconds. Everyone braced for the explosion, surely he would lose his temper, lash out, maybe even destroy the woman for crossing the line.
But instead, he smiled faintly.
"You don't like it? Alright. I won't peel it then."
The room nearly exploded with disbelief.
The maids stared at his finely carved features, their hands curling into fists. Was that... indulgence in his voice?
Since when had their master ever been gentle, let alone patient? Anyone else would have paid for such defiance with their life. This kind of softness from him was almost dizzying.
Dante Flagg took a damp towel from one of the servants and wiped his hands. Then he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat with quiet elegance.
