Domitian pursed his lips. She wanted to end it on this note, then, and she'd made that fairly clear. He was far from satisfied, but wondered about the wisdom of pushing the issue. It might have been easier if she'd come right out and said what she meant, instead of this veiled conversation, but did he want to hear it? If what she really wanted to say was I wish you wouldn't give me so many new reasons to be disappointed in you, what would he do then? If she came right out and admitted, over the dinner table, that she despised him — if she said she resented him for whatever role he had to play in locking their children out of the same life she had always envisioned for herself — if she resented him for being her husband and ruining her life through her association with him — what was he supposed to do with that? Nothing that he wasn't already doing. Quietly planning for the worst, and biding his time.

He could have just let the comment go, finished his dinner, and moved on.

After a long moment, he decided not to let it go.

"Should I concern myself with your words?" he asked, tensely. "Or would you like me to pretend I don't hear those things you're saying under your breath?"