Martins' POV
Maria nervously took the handles of my wheelchair, her fingers trembling slightly as she gripped them. I could sense her discomfort, but I said nothing. The kitchen fell silent as we exited, every pair of eyes burning into my back. I wasn’t sure if it was the tension I created or the nature of the work environment that had everyone on edge.
“Y-young master,” Maria stuttered as we rounded the corner into the hallway, her voice barely a whisper, “w-what can I do for you?”
I knew without a doubt that the reason why she was shaking was because she had overthought my request to see her when really I was simply doimg this to give her an option when the inevitable came.
“You’ll see soon enough,” I said, leaning back into the chair, my hands folded neatly in my lap. There was no
