“Coming to visit your dear father? I do hope that it’s on your client’s dime rather than your own because you know my opinion on how money holds power..” his voice was quiet, nothing like the man who he was known to be. You’d expect a booming voice, someone to terror under, but that was the thing about a Lefurgey, they were unexpected. And it was expected of a great leader to be charismatic, just never on how they portrayed that charisma. “I saw the reports of your last case. i must say, I am quite proud of you, my darling.” He poured the empty tea cup in front of him with some of the earl grey that he received from a member of parliament before he gestured to the seat on his right. “Sit. You must be tired from your long plane ride.”
her reaction to her father can never be quantified — every day and every year and every second is different, but one thing never changes: her heart feels heavy, and there’s a growing weight on her shoulders. it’s harder than it looks to remain stable, to remain one and strong. she can never tell whether she’s happy or not to see her — he’s still her father, and every now and then it almost looks as if he cares, as if he’s happy. ( it’s most likely all in her head, a creation, a fantasy. ). “ money is not a problem, father. i have more than enough to visit home. ” she likes to pretend that her voice is sharp and cold, but she knows better: there’s an underlying fear that comes to it whenever she is in the presence of THOMAS LEFURGEY, one that she won’t ever be quite able to shake away. she takes in a deep breath before walking towards the sit on his right ( her sit by right. you’ve earned it, my darling ). “ i did not know pride was something you could feel for anyone but phillip and yourself, father. ”