Chapter 307
Was Stuart easy to talk to?
They thought Morwenna was talking nonsense.
Who didn't know that Stuart was the notoriously icy-hearted king of their circle?
What were they supposed to do now?
How were they supposed to finish this meal?
Let alone continue eating...
Seeing everyone still frozen in place, Morwenna was also at a loss.
The main issue was Stuart sitting there, his presence too intimidating, rendering her attempts to liven up the atmosphere futile.
Morwenna sent a pleading look towards Norbert Hetfield, only to catch him suppressing a chuckle.
At this table, Norbert was perhaps the only one who dared to laugh.
Morwenna then turned her hopeful gaze to Stuart, her eyes clearly saying, "Uncle, what do we do now?"
Catching her pleading look and seeming in a good mood, Stuart allowed Morwenna to cling to his arm before finally addressing the awkward trio at the table. "Since you're all friends of the Princess, no need to be so formal," Stuart said, then directed the kitchen staff, "Go to the cellar and bring up two bottles of cider."
Morwenna, hearing this nickname, completely missed the part about Stuart wanting a drink, and whispered, "What Princess?"
Stuart leaned in slightly towards Morwenna, "I once had a cat that reminded me a lot of you."
"What does having a cat have to do with anything?" Morwenna was puzzled, then it dawned on her, "Stuart, I'm not a cat!" "Right, hence the cat was called 'Little Rascal', and you're 'Princess'."
Morwenna: "???"
If you want to give me a nickname, just say it. What's with all these bizarre reasons?
Most kids in their neighborhood had nicknames like Buddy, Skip, or Bear. Locals believed in giving humble names to make life easier.
Why Stuart decided on 'Princess' for her, she didn't know. Well, she was all grown up now, no worries about being hard to raise.
If Fletcher were here, he'd probably get Stuart's sly intentions. Stuart's possessiveness didn't want him using the same old nicknames for Morwenna, he had to find something unique.
As the two shared their whispered conversation, the others sneaked glances at them.
Soon, the kitchen staff selected a cider that complemented the day's meal and served it.
Lorna, while sneakily watching, grabbed a bottle of cider for herself, gulping down three glasses in quick succession.
Not for any reason other than to bolster some courage with a drink.
Dahlia and Keira were dumbfounded.
Morwenna, unaware it was alcohol, thought Lorna was just quenching her thirst with fruit juice.
But even cider contained some alcohol, and drinking three glasses back-to-back could easily intoxicate someone with a low tolerance.
After her drinks, Lorna suddenly broke the silence, "Morwenna, you're just a freshman, right? Are you even of legal age to marry? Mr. Hetfield here is pushing thirty... could practically be your uncle." Dahlia and Keira were exasperated.
Was this something to say in front of Mr. Hetfield?
Stuart seemed unfazed, as if it didn't bother him.
Morwenna explained, "Of course, I'm of age. I started elementary school late, I'm already twenty. And Stuart... he's not that old, only eight years older than me."
"Eight years is not old? I... uh..." Lorna's words were cut short as Dahlia stuffed a piece of cake into her mouth.
Keira kept tugging at Lorna's sleeve discreetly.
That was Mr. Hetfield they were talking about!
Discussing Mr. Hetfield's age in front of him, if they continued, whether they could leave Hetfield's Homestead on good terms was questionable.
With her mouth full, Lorna momentarily forgot what she was about to say.
Stuart, being called old to his face, didn't even frown, perhaps softened by Morwenna's constant clinging to his arm.
Seeing Morwenna reaching for the cider, Stuart intervened, pouring her a glass of fresh juice instead: "Drink this."