"Why are you so nervous? I should be the one feeling anxious," he said with a smirk, squeezing her hand which he hadn't released since they disembarked from the carriage at the palace gate. "Or is my wife always inclined to oppose her father now?"
Adela sighed. It wasn't about that at all.
The two of them were en route to leave when an urgent summons for dinner arrived at the von Conradie estate from the Emperor's palace, requiring them to depart immediately to reach the palace. It bore the crest of House de Lanark, indicating it was her father who had sent it, not Claude.
"...He's angry," she murmured to herself. "I don't want things to escalate between the two of you."
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, bringing their march to a stop right in front of the two guards guarding the imposing doors of the imperial dining room.
"I won't let anything escalate."
"...It's not your temper I'm currently concerned about."
