It was rare for the Duke to admire someone. He was arrogant, egotistic, and a narcissist. He wasn't even this happy whenever he talked about Lucien or any of his children. Well, he was a bit every time he gloat about his daughter, me.
Octavian talked about this "guest" who goes by the name "Seven" happily throughout the dinner. Because of his enthusiasm, Paris was obviously exhilarated to meet the man in question. Being a werewolf only increased my little brother's interest.
So, here we were now, heading to the guest quarters right after dinner, where this wild werewolf was staying.
"I wonder what kind of greeting I should do?" Paris rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "Should I kick the door of his room to leave a profound impression? Father said he's a simpleton, but all the simpletons I met were already sleeping six deep. So, I don't know their language."
