#Chapter 75 Family Formalities

Dominic It was always strange to see my father in a formal setting. Mira and I were sitting across from him, his great mahogany desk spanning the distance between us. On the other side of the office was a small couch and chairs, a low table for tea service or playing cards. Normally I would sit there to talk with my father, and with my mother when she was alive. But when the matter was urgent or we were dealing with high-level Pack business, we took our formal positions at the desk. Today, it felt both ominous and absurd. We were here discussing marriage and the future, but had to act like we were stopping a war or buying an island. My father’s easy smile was reassuring that he felt the same. “A few generations ago we were still talking about livestock and land,” he chuckled, looking over documents. “At least now you can keep your sheep, Mira.” “If only I had sheep to keep,” Mira replied, shrugging as if she was foolish for not having sheep. “I can get you sheep,” I sai