The dinner started, after a round of small talks. For a while, only the sounds following the movements of the three people eating remained in the apartment.
Despite Daemon's lukewarm reaction, Cynthia kept a smile as she helped him with the food. Michael Harsh, her father, watched everything with a smile in his eyes. He also used the time to observe Daemon, something the latter ignored.
But he couldn't do the same when the father of his host initiated the conversation:
"Daemon, Cynthia told me that you have been recovering during this time. But it seems that you are also keeping yourself busy? It is good for young people to not be idle. I also like to do the best of my time."
He smiled, but seeing Daemon not responding with much other than with a curt nod of the head, he asked with smile:
"Do you need any help?"
"No."
Harsh ignore the signals of his daughter and asked something else:
"So, what are you working on? Is it a secret?"
Daemon took his eyes away from his plate for for the first time:
"Just something I conceived some time ago when I was bored. Nothing to write home about."
"Alright then. Don't hesitate to ask if you need help."
He gave him a faint look and nodded, before putting another mouthful of food in his mouth.
The silence continued, but seeing her father about to speak again, Cynthia intervened:
"Dad, how have things been lately? Is mom really okay?"
Michael had to hold back a snort to avoid making the food he just swallowed put his nasal canals in jeopardy:
"You still know to ask about her? Why don't you visit her more often since she misses you?"
Cynthia pouted. It seemed it was not the first time they had that kind of conversation.
"Dad…"
Michael relented:
"Alright, I know. You are independent. Your mother is fine, just a little uncomfortable. Remember to call her even if you won't visit."
"I will."
"Hm." He nodded, satisfied.
"As for work, it is the usual. No matter what, we, officials, all want the best for the country. We can only try our best to get supporters for our vision and our plans. Thankfully, I have the help of your uncle Green."
Cynthia nodded, without showing much interest. Whether he called himself an official or a politician didn't matter. That wouldn't make her like the way he was, and what he could do for his ambitions.
But looking at Daemon, she spoke to not let him feel excluded or confused:
"Uncle Green is the owner of my company."
To be frank, that did not matter to Daemon, but the name did bring a memory to the forefront of his mind:
"Green, like Michael Green?"
Cynthia was surprised. It had been some time since the nightclub incident. What's more, she never talked to him about that man specifically. But still, she was happy:
"I didn't think you would notice. Michael Green is the son of uncle Green."
She suppressed a smile as she resumed eating, bringing a mouthful of food to her mouth. The only reason for Daemon to have kept that name in mind was if he was considering him a rival, right?
After swallowing what she had in mouth, she spoke to reassure him:
"You don't need to worry, we are only friends. If not for his father, I would not have put up with his pestering during all these years."
Daemon didn't react, while Michael smiled at the scene he was witnessing. Cynthia let her thoughts wander, so he took the opportunity to speak to Daemon:
"I heard that you used to be in the military?"
Daemon paused. From the way the man spoke, he could be certain he was basing his question on any information from Cynthia. He resumed his movements and continued eating:
"I see that you have looked into my background. I just did my part for the country. Nothing to boast about."
Michael's smile didn't waver. He ignored the indifferent and faint dissatisfaction in the answer.
"I'm sure your family is proud of you."
"I'm an orphan."
Cynthia couldn't help but look at him, while Michael's reaction looked sincere, but with less surprise.
"Sorry, I didn't know that."
Daemon narrowed his eyes at him for a moment before moving his attention away:
"Then do a better check next time."
The wrong tone of the conversation made Cynthia snap out of her thoughts, but she was given no opportunity to interrupt this time. What her father said made her pause.
"Why not create a family of your own then? You just came back, and you are all alone. You might want to settle down, and as a hero of the country, you deserve the best. I can tell that my daughter has feelings for you, which is rare. She has been rejecting all of her suitors, even making her mother and I lose face sometimes. She is not getting younger, and her mother is losing her sleep due to worry." He turned to Cynthia: "Why don't you get married. With a son-in-law, your mother will be happy."
His eyes left the red faced Cynthia and returned to Daemon:
"What do you say, Daemon? You won't lose out. Cynthia is beautiful, considerate, and her background is not bad."
Silence.
By then, Daemon had stopped eating. To say he was not surprised would be a lie. This dinner turning into a matchmaking session was not something he had been expecting.
Michael showed no particular emotion, only a bit of anticipation, along with a smile on his face. As for Cynthia, a glance from the corner of his eyes showed her hiding her anticipation mixed with nervousness.
She was fidgeting, with her knuckles white from the strength she was putting. She seemed caught between reprimanding her father out of embarrassment, and looking forward to a positive response.
"I'm just a retired soldier, an orphan with not much to my name."
She was disappointed, while her father shook his head at the tactful rejection.
"You saved my daughter, nothing else matters. With you by her side, I will be assured of her safety. So long as you treat her right, the rest doesn't matter."