Dimitri’s POV
“Perhaps I should stitch their lips shut,” I muttered darkly. A maid nearby, in the middle of pouring tea, let out a sharp gasp and dropped the kettle. Under my unyielding stare, she fled the room.
My mother exhaled slowly, ever composed, the picture of regal authority. Her silver hair was swept into an elegant style, and her deep burgundy gown gave her an air of timeless nobility. She was tall, commanding, and her sharp eyes missed nothing.
“Why did you call me here?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.
“It’s time you got married,” she said, with no preamble.
I blinked, taken aback. “Your mother would want this,” she continued.
“My mother left me,” I shot back coldly. “You’ve been the only mother I’ve known, and you’ve never pushed me into this before. Why now?”
