The room went still.
All eyes turned toward the rest of the Pitt siblings,each of them perfect in their own designer-clad, emotionally-suppressed ways.
The weight of hierarchy, tradition, and polished expectations hung thick in the air.
Sevran, the eldest, stiffened. His suit was immaculate, not a hair out of place. "This isn't about what we think," he said, voice crisp. "It's about Father's authority. But I grew to love my wife, Siran was lucky enough to marry the woman he loves. Seram should be given the chance with someone he likes as well. We are already quite divided as a family, but at least we shouldn't deprive ourselves from happiness"
"Father should just give in.." muttered Siran, arms folded as he leaned against the marble column near the fireplace.
Tyra turned to him, arching a graceful brow. "Siran?"
