The moment Dorian hurriedly left the room, an eerie silence fell over those who remained—Julian, Clyde, and the sketch artists.
Julian nonchalantly gestured toward the door, signaling Clyde's dismissal.
Clyde hesitated, but Julian calmly asked, "Why are you still here? Weren't you heading to the office or home?"
Clyde stammered, "Well, Sir Julian, I wanted to..."
But Julian interjected, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Why did you laugh at young master Gray's sketch? Why did you call it a 'stickman'? Can you even draw?"
Panic washed over Clyde's face.
"Oh, no, Sir Julian, I didn't mean to laugh. It was Elder Bim's assistant who laughed first, and his laughter was contagious. As for the drawing, yes, 'Stickman'—thin lines with a big head—but I didn't intend any offense."
Ignoring Clyde's pleas, Julian continued, "I need you to bring me ten sketches of your wife and children tomorrow. Understood?"
