Chapter 193. The Hard Truth

A maid strode into the living room, her shoes clicking against the marble floor. Wearing a stoic expression, she clutched a tray holding three wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. She leaned forward to place the glasses on the table between General Ralph, Damian, and Rowan. Moriah stood behind Damian with her hands at her back, watching silently as the elites dined. She wished to sit beside Damian—her eyes did little to hide it.

The sound of the wine rushing from the bottle into the glass echoed, and the strong scent of the red wine spread through the air.

“To be honest, I couldn’t believe it when Rowan informed me that he was going to fetch his little brother. I was inclined to think he was making jokes,” Ralph said with a smile as he peered at Damian, his voice a little over the sputtering wine. “Then again, the one thing Rowan lacks is a sense of humor.”

Rowan chuckled. “I have a sense of humor,” he argued. “Just not the normal kind,” he added with a mutter as