She stood up with her bowl, where the utensil was passed to the maid before she was led back to Damien's room. When the long length of the dining table was cleared by the maids, all of them left before the last one closed the doors behind her before leaving the father and son in there by themselves.
"That was quite rude of what you said to Fleurance, Damien," Damien's father spoke, his red eyes looking at his son whose eyes finally decided to move to look back.
"That is equal to saying you don't respect what your deceased wife said. Don't tell me, you don't value her words anymore but of the living," tuted Damien shaking his head playfully.
"That is a low blow and not very nice of you to say that."
"I didn't say anything wrong but was only stating facts."
"Your facts are very bitter, worse than a grain of salt on the wound."
