Marthio reached for the silver pitcher on the table, his hand steady as he poured himself a generous cup of wine. The rich, dark liquid swirled inside the goblet as he filled it, the silence between them growing heavier. He didn't look at Valeria as he leaned back into his chair, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a long, slow sip. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue, much like the bitterness in his heart.
"I had hoped," Marthio began, his voice cold and deliberate, "that for once, you wouldn't disappoint me. That you would put aside your petty desires and actually work for the good of our house." His green eyes flickered toward her, sharp and piercing. "But I was wrong."
Valeria's lips parted, her heart racing. "Father, I—"