When they reached downstairs, the table was being set by Henrique. The room was dimly lit, but the soft lighting did not hinder the view of the objects and the food, carefully placed on the platter, though it was almost impossible to notice the scars on the man's face that Helena had only recently discovered existed.
He really didn't talk much, seemed like a solitary figure, and if she met him alone in the middle of the night, Helena would tremble with fear, not because of the scars, but because of his dark gaze and size. He was intimidating to those who didn't know him; she didn't know who his future wife was, but she would probably be afraid of him, at least until she got to know him.
She sat next to her husband, each served their plate, and the food was superb. They ate in silence, th
