Silas set his fork down slowly and wiped his mouth with a napkin. His expression remained cool, almost bored, but Sylvain could see the tension in his jaw.
"Mother, this is not the time or place for this discussion."
Amelia leaned back in her chair, elegantly crossing her arms. "Then when is the time, Silas? Are you two hiding something from me?"
"Mom, we are not hiding anything. He is my errand boy. Nothing more, nothing less."
Amelia drank the last drop of wine in her glass and looked up at her son. "When are you getting married, Silas? At this age, I should already be expecting twins from you."
Sylvain swallowed hard. He bent his head low and continued eating, trying to disappear into his plate. Silas stared at him and smirked. "Mom, you should not be expecting any grandchildren from me."
Amelia frowned, searching her son's face. "What do you mean, Silas? Are you not getting married?"
Silas tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table and shook his head. "For now… no."
