Charles waved his hand dismissively. "No need. I'll go upstairs later. Just have someone prepare some tea. Do we still have this year's new tea?"

"Yes, we do," the butler, James, replied with a delighted expression. "I'll prepare it right away and bring it up to you shortly, Mr. Charles!"

Charles nodded and turned to find a seat far from Clarisse. "Why did you come back this time, Mother?"

Clarisse's expression changed slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "What do you mean by that? This is still my home. Do I need to report to you when I come back?"

Charles' thin lips curved into a slight smile, his eyes carrying a hint of coldness. His relaxed posture contrasted starkly with Clarisse's proper and reserved demeanor.

powerless about her son's attitude toward her. She could not pinpoint when this change had occurred, but by the time she noticed, it was already too late to reverse it. "Charlie, I'm still your mother!" Clarisse

long

beside her, could sense her anger.

as his sharp eyes grew cold. "After all, your real home is

how can you speak to me like this? You should

don't want to dwell on your affairs, Mother. It's

I need a reason

I'm doing fine." He stood up. "I need to go upstairs to speak with Dad. I won't

saying, "Charles, Aunt Clary misses you. You rarely visit Capiton, so she came to

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