As his father's response remained ambiguous, Desmond, a portly young man with a hint of defiance in his eyes, muttered his protest under his breath. However, he quickly spun around, his face transforming into a deceitful smile reminiscent of cunning traders. With calculated composure, he replied, "Thank you, father. Please excuse me."
"En," came his father's curt reply.
Lowering his head to hide his disappointment, Desmond turned on his heel and left the room, his steps accompanied by the gentle swish of Shelty, a young elf maid, following close at his side. The faint scent of lavender wafted through the air as they made their exit.
...
