Instead, Korbyn invited Mark to take a seat, and then instructed a servant, "Please inform Waylen and the others it's time to come downstairs for dinner. They shouldn't isolate themselves every time they congregate."

"Rena and Cecilia went shopping, coming home with an array of clothing and jewelry," Juliette shared.

"They're seeking Waylen's opinion. They get along so well. That pleases you, doesn't it?”

A twinge of disappointment struck Mark.

Cecilia had claimed her schedule was too packed for meet-ups.

A hint of jealousy emerged in Mark, though he kept it to himself.

As he pondered, footsteps signaled their descent.

Waylen led the way, with Rena and Cecilia following, side by side.

Cecilia, leaning on Rena, had her arm linked through Rena's...

Korbyn's voice, cool, interjected, "Your uncle has arrived."

Korbyn looked at his children.

The ambiance held a delicate subtlety.

Waylen glanced over at Cecilia and noticed a slight blush gracing her face. Clearly, she couldn't withstand such teasing.

Mark was much more thick-skinned.

At his age, he found himself once more in Cecilia's company, and he paid little heed to anything else.

His affectionate gaze upon Cecilia was even more unreserved than before.

Waylen let out a chuckle.

In agreement with his father, he added, "Dad, if you keep on going like that, Mark might never show his face here again."

Korbyn shot Waylen a grave look before inquiring, “Is he that really shy, Waylen?"

Both Korbyn and Waylen possessed sharp tongues.