167: Dislike; in the worst way possible

“I trust not a single word that comes from his mouth,” said the Duke of York, Adrastus Esmeray, as he sat across from his cousin, Eleni, drinking his tea in leisure. “Something about his eyes unnerves me to my very core.“ He murmured.

Eleni Yaxley — daughter of Count Yaxley and niece of Duke of Durham — suppressed a slight frown as she tilted her head, a slight and elegant movement as she set her cup down. “Why is that so, brother Adrastus?“ She asked, appearing curious as she watched him. “Pray tell, I cannot help but feel curious.“

Adrastus met her eyes, his calm, almost indifferent silver irises bore into her gentle and warm ones as he shifted on the couch, one leg crossed over the other and silver hair draped over his shoulder to fall on his chest.