This sentence hit the old man's sore spot; the death of his son is his greatest pain.
"Nonsense, this is your home. We, your uncles, are also your family. Who dares to slander you?" The second uncle quickly intervened to defuse the situation; the death of his brother is the Seymour Family's taboo.
"Ha, couldn't tell." Melody Thorne scoffed. "I didn't know who it was that stormed in here without distinguishing between right and wrong, wanting to seize me!"
The Seymour patriarch's face looked utterly displeased. "Enough, if your arm can't move, go see a doctor. Why make such a fuss here? Don't let me see the two of you crossing paths again in the coming days!"
Clara Seymour, seeing the patriarch's anger, felt another pang of frustration. Melody Thorne had returned; her status, everything she had, her heirship all vanished like a puff of wind.
"Clara, let's go." Albert Seymour's face darkened already, as he pulled his daughter away.
