Santino took a low breath. "That is where I am quite clueless, young master."
Draven averted his gaze, adjusting his sitting in the chair.
"Santino."
"Yes, young master," Santino answered.
Draven asked, "Don't you feel that something is wrong?"
"I do indeed feel so, young master," Santino replied. "But I simply cannot fathom what it is. I do not possess your deductive skills."
"I see…" Draven nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Has my wife eaten?" he questioned.
Santino reluctantly shook his head. "No…young master."
He proceeded to explain, "She seems to be busy with her—"
Draven stood up abruptly from the chair, interrupting him. He looked over at him, saying, "Have the maids deliver some food here. I'll be back."
He walked away before Santino could even give a response.
Santino gazed at his fading figure and deeply exhaled in an exhausted manner. He left for the kitchen, where the maids resided.
