Claude quickly stood up and offered to find Henry some other delicious dishes and fruits.
'This isn't a conversation for me to hear.' Henry valued him, and he was grateful for it, but he couldn't be tactless.
After Claude left, Glen adopted a particularly humble posture. "Henry," he said, "let's just let what happened before be bygones, shall we?"
"Of course. But I'd like you to leave this table. In front of others, we're still men of the academy."
Henry shook his head, his opinion of Glen sinking lower and lower. His initial respect had curdled into disdain.
Glen smiled, nodded, and rose to leave. The moment he turned, his smile vanished.
'I grew up in the Royal Capital! The son of a court Count! My life has been smooth sailing since birth, so why should I let some martial oaf flaunt his power in front of me!'
'So what if you're a good fighter? It's fucking useless!'
