The clatter of silverware against porcelain was the only sound in the room until Alejandro broke the silence with a casual, devastating remark.
"After all," he said, gesturing toward the twins in red and black, "she is to be wedded to my sons."
Soren's brow shot up. He felt a surge of cold disbelief wash over him, and before his internal filter could catch it, the words were out. "Baron Don Alejandro de los Elegidos..."
"Please," Alejandro interrupted, waving a jewel-encrusted hand dismissively. "Simply calling me Alejandro will suffice."
"Yes. Baron Alejandro," Soren pressed, his voice tight. "Don't you mean one of your sons?"
Alejandro shook his head, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across his face. "No... my boys are twins. They have always shared everything. They grew in the same womb, they eat from the same plate, and they will even share a single grave one day. Surely, they can share one woman, si?"
