As it neared his Lips, the robust fragrance of mutton enveloped him.

He mustered his resolve, took a deliberate bite and, with closed eyes, savored every moment before swallowing.

With a keen eye on his reaction, Sabrina asked, “How does it taste? Good?”

Judging from his expression, Sabrina couldn’t make out how he felt.

Tyrone responded with a stoic expression, “It’s decent.”

“If it doesn’t please your palate, there’s no need to force yourself,”

Sabrina offered kindly.

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himself oddly perturbed by her

the first piece,

her lips, her eyes fixed on Tyrone.

Looked up, his

Sabrina expressed

Tyrone questioned, “For what?”

your negotiations with Galilea, withholding the truth from me, depriving me of my right to

Sabrina confessed.

was taken aback, his gaze

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