70: Skepticism; culinary skills to test
Adrastus had stiffened at his words, the Duke of Yorkshire's gaze had turned stone cold. Had Drystan been anything other than an indifferent person, he certainly would have shuddered at the look.
His amber eyes trailed down to Adrastus Esmeray's hand that was clutching the armrest. Knuckles were white and veins were prominent in those beautiful hands.
Then, after a pause, Drystan flashed him an innocent and calm grin.
Leaning back into his chair, more relaxed than before, the painter was quick to answer his own question that hung so heavily in the air.
“But of course, it's not going to happen,” he smiled, propping his left elbow on the armrest and resting his cheek on his fist. “Who could possibly do that?“
Silence was his answer.