Third Person's POV
Seraphina had no idea where this sudden mood swing of Mortimer's was coming from.
She was about to tell him to order for himself, but he beat her to it. "Grandfather is alone in the dining room. I need to get back to him," he muttered.
Before she could blink, he turned and strode away, his long legs moving so fast it looked like he was fleeing a crime scene.
Seraphina stood there under the waiter's expectant gaze. She checked her annoyance and added a few more complex, high-end dishes to the order.
It was a matter of etiquette—no matter how much she wanted to throw a glass of water in Mortimer's face, she would always maintain a flawless front for the elders.
"That's all. Make it quick."
"Of course, ma'am. I'll ensure the freshness is peak."
Seraphina didn't rush
