The coldness never faded away, as if it was entirely out of place with the joyous celebration.
He knew what these people wanted to do, and understood the direction of this play, but he was never interested in cooperating.
He always loathed such occasions.
Fake pleasantries, ostentatious etiquette, everyone wore masks, speaking insincere words.
He hated the feeling of being arranged and scrutinized, and despised even more the fate of being used as a tool for marriage alliances.
He would rather walk alone through the dark night than play the role of a filial son-in-law in this gilded cage.
But since both families insisted on pushing him onto this ship, he didn't mind overturning it with his own hands.
He slowly put down his wine glass, his knuckles lightly tapping the rim with a faint sound.
A sharp glint finally flickered through those abyss-deep eyes, like the calm before a storm, or the patient wait of a hunter locking onto its prey.
