A little past evening, Nathaniel returned home, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. The viscount’s hospitality had been impeccable, but his daughters were by far the most obnoxious women he had ever encountered. Their relentless fawning and desperate, simpering smiles only solidified his disinterest in them.
He reached for the doorknob, twisting it open, and stepped inside. Sarang sat on his bed, arms folded, gaze sharp with anger. Nathan quietly shut the door behind him.