Silas let out a dramatic yelp, bending down to collect the pieces with an exaggerated tenderness.
"Alaric, look at me. I'm so clumsy, breaking everything. You won’t hold it against me, will you?"
Though his words were laced with feigned apology, a flicker of triumph gleamed in his eyes.
At the sound of the crash, Amaris rushed into the room, her expression tight with concern.
The moment her eyes fell on the wreckage, her brows knitted together in a deep frown.
But instead of looking at me, she headed straight to Silas, her voice full of false sweetness.
"Brother Silas, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
She examined him from head to toe, her worry almost tangible.
Then, without missing a beat, she spun around and snapped at me, her voice sharp and accusing.
"How many times have I told you to get rid of this junk? Why do you leave it lying around? Look, you nearly got Brother Silas hurt!"
Amaris’s voice was sharp, her foot sweeping across the scattered fragments.
"This old, worthless trash! Who even bothers with shadow puppets anymore? People watch movies now!"
A rush of blood surged to my head, a deafening hum echoing in my ears.