Chapter 122

Lorcan's POV

The hall voided in silence, leaving only my father and me locked in a violent regard- down.

The pressure was palpable, a thick pressure that made the air feel heavy.

He eventually gestured for me to sit and join him for a mess.

I complied, curiosity mingling with the moping wrathfulness from our earlier argument.

Why was n’t he addressing the issue that had brought such a rift between us? We ate in silence, the only sound being the clinking of implements against plates.

The food tasted like ash in my mouth, my mind contending with a whirlwind of questions. Yet, my father’s expression remained inscrutable, revealing nothing of his studies or intentions.

After the mess, we retired to our separate apartments, the implied pressure still hanging between us like a dark pall.

As we walked through the dimly lit corridors, my father stopped in front of a large, ornate oil painting oil hanging on the wall. The oil was an assessing sight, gauging nearly the