Thalassaâs brows furrowed slightly. It was a subconscious reaction.
Faye ladled up a bowl of soup, stood up, bowed slightly, and placed it in front of Lysander. Her demeanor was humble and considerate.
âMr. Sinclair,â she said, âI remember you always have a bowl of cod chowder after your social engagements, and Iâve always been the one to serve it to you.â
She finished speaking and looked at Lysander expectantly, waiting for him to take the soup and drink it.
There were a lot of hidden messages in what she just said.
In the past, she was Lysanderâs personal assistant. She took care of him at every social event, so no one knew his habits better than she did.
Her hidden messages were not only for the others present, but also for Thalassa.
She wanted Thalassa to know that no one knew Lysander better than she did.
Thalassa naturally understood the subtext of her words.
Faye was declaring war on her.
However, she probably didnât know that her relationship with Lysander was not what she thought it was.
No matter how much she fought, it would all be futile.
But Thalassa still wanted to know if Lysander would drink the soup Faye had served him.
If he drank it, it would prove that Faye still had a certain weight in his heart. She would become an irreplaceable presence.
Unconsciously, Thalassa looked at Lysander with a hint of anxiety in her eyes as she waited.
But Lysanderâs handsome face remained calm. There wasnât a trace of emotion or affection for Faye anywhere on him. He didnât even lift his eyes, never glancing at Faye from beginning to end.
He ignored the soup in front of him and turned a deaf ear to Faye.
Faye was still standing there, waiting for Lysanderâs reaction, but he was leisurely eating his meal as if she werenât there.-
The polite and considerate smile on Fayeâs face gradually faded. It had become a stiff grin. She stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to stand or sit, feeling completely embarrassed.
Zephyr frowned and tried to help Faye. âLysander, Faye is talking to you. She knows you like cod chowder. Sheâs being considerate. You canât just reject her good intentions.â
Lysander finally lifted his eyes. His deep gaze swept across Fayeâs face and landed on Zephyr. He casually moved the cod chowder to Zephyrâs side, his low voice stating, âYou like this too, Grandpa.
Enjoy it.â
Zephyrâs face turned stiff. His anger made his face darken.
Grandma Sybil quickly tried to smooth things over. âOh, Zephyr, the kitchen made the cod chowder just for you. Just drink it. Lysander is fine with his meal.â
Faye stood there with her hands clenched into fists. Her face showed how extremely embarrassed she felt.
âDonât be mad, Great-grandpa. My dad doesnât like soup. He likes whipped cream.â Elowenâs adorable voice chimed in.
She scooped up a spoonful of pink cream from her cake and held it out to Lysander.
âDaddy, you love whipped cream flowers, donât you? Iâll feed you. Open upâ¦â Elowenâs voice was soft and childlike.
Her chubby little hand was covered in cream, as was her mouth. She was using her own spoon to feed Lysander.
That spoon was undoubtedly covered in her saliva.
Thalassa was startled to see this. Couldnât Elowen get a new spoon if she wanted to feed him?
That would increase her chances of success.
How could someone like Lysander eat something covered in her saliva?
Thalassa was worried for Elowen.
Faye also watched this scene curiously. She remembered that Lysander hated sweets more than anything else.
And the little girl in front of him was covered in cream. She was dirty and feeding Lysander with her own used spoon.
How could Lysander possibly eat that?
Fayeâs gaze softened a bit, waiting to see the little girl get embarrassed. At least she wasnât the only one feeling awkward. That made her feel better.
Lysanderâs deep gaze turned to Elowen.
The adults at the dinner table were all nervously watching.
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