Adamar sighed. “You don’t understand, do you? I thought you’d have figured it out by now. Seen the signs.” Adamar walked over to a table that sat in the corner, adorned with a few crystal glasses and a bottle of brandy. He poured himself a glass and looked at Aramis from over his shoulder. “Would you like some? The servants found it in the pantry, hidden behind some flour. Apparently, father had a secret stash and was keeping the best stuff for himself.”
Aramis glared in response.
Adamar shrugged and downed the entire glass. He refilled the glass and then resumed his pacing. “I’m going to be honest with you. As such, I expect you to do the same service to me. Can you agree to that?”
Aramis remained silent.
“I’ll take your silence as consent, then. Where do I start?” he asked aloud. “Ho
