Amelia could feel the tension in the air long before Matthew opened his mouth. His voice, when it came, was drenched in the kind of sweetness that made her stomach churn, a syrupy tone that reminded her of artificial honey trying to disguise the taste of poison. He leaned back in his chair with the smug confidence of someone who thought he had already won, his words dripping with calculated insincerity.
"I am only concerned, that is all," he said, his expression painted into something that resembled brotherly affection, though Amelia knew it was nothing but a mask. "As your brother, it is my duty to look out for you. Grandfather should not have to worry about matters like this in his current condition."
