The atmosphere at the Leclair House had been rather bleak these past few days.
Delphine had been leaving early and returning late every day, and Ignatius hadn't even caught a glimpse of her. Each time he came home, the house was silent and empty, the bed cold and untouched. The warm, fragrant woman who used to lie in his arms was gone, and Ignatius's expression had turned frighteningly stern.
He had always been aloof and reserved, with a subtle arrogance underneath, but he had already lowered himself to apologize to her. To his disbelief, Delphine Carter remained unforgiving, and anger had been building up fiercely in his heart for days.
The servants clearly sensed the young master's foul mood; seeing him from a distance, they scattered like startled birds, afraid to provoke his wrath.
Even Maximilian had been keeping his head down these past few days, silently lamenting his misfortune.
On the day of the Squire Family banquet, Leah arrived early to pick her up.
