Chapter 1276

“What do you consider to be right?” A cold voice resonated through the room.

He hadn’t arrived yet, but his presence was already felt by everyone nearby.

Without turning, Thalassa knew it was Lysander.

She didn’t look back, continuing to eat her oatmeal, lost in her own world, when the seat beside her was taken by a towering figure with an unmistakable aura.

As Lysander sat down, a chill seemed to emanate from him, making Thalassa slow her spoonfuls of oatmeal.

Callum’s face turned even sourer, his previously amiable gaze darkening.

Evelyn offered a nervous smile and greeted, “Mr. Sinclair, you’re up early. What would you like? I’ll go get something for you.”

“Mom, let me,” Thalassa stood up, her steps taking her towards the breakfast buffet.

Lysander was a man of unpredictable moods, quick to anger.

No one knew what might set him off, and if Evelyn irritated him, the outcome wouldn't be pretty.

Of course, Thalassa couldn’t let her mother take that risk.

She picked out a bowl of plain oatmeal and a side of pickles for Lysander, placing them before him on the table.

Evelyn panicked at the sight of Thalassa’s choices and scolded, “What are you doing giving Mr. Sinclair these?”

Thalassa was baffled by her mother’s words, as if Lysander wasn’t human and didn’t have the same needs. The buffet offered simple fare like doughnuts, cereals, oatmeal, and pickles.

This wasn’t some grand five-star establishment. It was just a modest hotel, and modest food was what they provided.

“Mom,” Thalassa called out, a gentle reminder.

Evelyn stopped, biting her tongue, not daring to look at Lysander, fearing his reaction and what he might do to Thalassa.

The atmosphere tensed, thick with apprehension, as Evelyn feared they might be chased away like the day before.

But then Lysander’s deep voice broke the silence, “I’ve never tried pickles with oatmeal before. It’s worth a taste.”

With that, he picked up a pickle with his fork and took a bite.

Evelyn looked up incredulously, worrying he would spit it out in disgust.

Lysander was a man of privilege. Surely, he hadn’t eaten such simple food before.

Such fare was not for those with delicate stomachs, especially not for a first-timer.

While Evelyn was on edge, Lysander swallowed the pickle and, to everyone’s surprise, a smile played on his lips, “Not bad.”

While Evelyn was fraught with nerves, Thalassa remained calm, continuing to eat her oatmeal and salmon.

Suddenly, a chuckle broke the silence.

Thalassa and Evelyn turned towards the source of the sound, only to see Callum’s lips curled into a smirk.

Lysander lifted his eyes to meet Callum’s gaze.

His words were tinged with hostility.

Lysander’s stare became icy as he focused on Callum.

Thalassa paused, unaware of the implications of the salted fish. Reаd at Callum’s sudden claim that Lysander liked it stirred curiosity. Was there a deeper meaning?

If anything else happened to him, it would be truly tragic.