Mrs. Lander walked out of the kitchen carrying a freshly simmered pot of chicken soup, catching Elise’s words just in time.

She placed the soup on the dining table first, then shot a quick look at Dylan. "Mr. Bennett, Madam doesn’t eat organ meats."

Hearing this, Dylan pursed his lips. After a moment, he looked at Elise and said, "I’m sorry. It was my fault for not making it clear to Fleur."

"You didn’t fail to make it clear. You simply didn’t know at all," Elise exposed him directly.

Dylan’s brow furrowed tightly. His thin lips parted as if to speak, but in the end, he chose to say nothing more.

Elise didn’t care about his reaction anyway. She turned directly to the housekeeper and said, "Please fry up two more dishes according to my usual dietary habits."

"Of course, of course! I’ve already prepped some ingredients according to your taste, Madam." Mrs. Lander pointed toward the kitchen. "I’ll go make them right now. The Miss Bonnaire should be wrapping up on her end too. Madam, Sir, please sit down."

Elise took Robin’s hand, walked over to the table, and sat down. Robin sat obediently right next to her, then looked at Dylan, who was standing to the side. "Daddy, come over!"

Dylan gave a low murmur of assent, walked over, and took the seat directly across from Elise.

Just then, Fleur emerged from the kitchen holding the freshly made hot-and-sour kidney slices.

"I didn’t put too many chili peppers in this dish," she said as she approached the table, setting down the steaming plate that emitted a sharp, pungent aroma.

She deliberately placed it a little closer to Elise, then looked at her with enthusiastic eyes. "Elise, quick, give it a try!"

Elise frowned. She rarely ate foods with such heavy, strong flavors, and she almost never touched anything spicy. For someone who didn’t eat spicy food, Fleur’s dish was an absolute nightmare; just breathing in the chili fumes alone was enough to make her choke.

"Thank you, but I’m not used to this kind of food. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble, so please, have more of it yourself." Out of sheer politeness, Elise suppressed the urge to push the plate away and offered Fleur a courteous response.

To her surprise, the smile on Fleur’s face froze instantly. She turned her gaze toward Dylan, her eyes carrying a hint of anxiety and a clear signal for help.

Looking at Fleur, Dylan explained, "Fleur, I’m sorry, I forgot to mention it to you. Elise prefers lighter meals, and she doesn’t eat offal."

Fleur blanked for a moment, but then she visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, so that’s how it is!" She looked back at Elise, her face breaking into another warm, friendly smile. "It’s quite alright, Elise! If you’re not used to hot and sour flavors, then try this stir-fried pork liver instead. I washed this liver repeatedly, so it’s incredibly clean, and I didn’t add any chili peppers at all. Since you’re pregnant right now, I just thought eating some pork liver would help replenish your iron, which is good for both you and the baby."

Elise’s eyebrows knitted together once more. She had made her point so incredibly clear. Was Fleur genuinely incapable of understanding plain English, or was she doing this on purpose?

"If it’s not due to an allergy, you should at least give it a try," Dylan said, looking at Elise. "The doctor said you’re anemic. Eating a little pork liver is good for you."

Hearing this, Elise closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she looked at Dylan, her eyes devoid of a single shred of warmth.

"Dylan, I am not allergic to organ meats. I don’t eat them purely because I detest them. There are plenty of ways to treat anemia and replenish blood; I do not need to force myself to eat pork liver—a food I absolutely hate—just to fix it!"

Dylan frowned. Before he could speak, Fleur’s voice cut in ahead of him.

"I am so sorry, I am so sorry! Elise, please don’t be angry, it’s all my fault. Don’t fight with Dylan because of this. It’s entirely on me—I should have asked about your preferences before coming over. You’re absolutely right, there are many ways to replenish iron.

Since you don’t like these foods, then don’t eat them. Whatever you do, don’t lose your temper over such a small matter. You’re pregnant right now, so keeping a happy mood is what’s most important."

Fleur spoke at a frantic pace, looking as though she were terrified that if she didn’t intervene quickly enough, Elise and Dylan would explode into a massive fight. But the more she acted this way, the more it made Elise look entirely unreasonable and aggressive.

Dylan’s face darkened by several shades. "Elise, know when to stop."

Elise saw right through Fleur’s little display of playing the victim, but she couldn’t be bothered to argue back and forth with her. She simply looked at Dylan and let out a cold scoff.

"What exactly did I do? Whether I eat offal or not is my own business. Don’t tell me that when I have a meal in my own home, I’m expected to do people favors and cater to their emotional needs?"

"Elise is right, we shouldn’t force anyone to eat what they don’t like." Fleur’s tone was full of a desire to please. As she spoke, she immediately turned her head to look at Dylan, her delicate brows knitting into a reproachful frown.

"Dylan! What did I tell you before? Elise is a pregnant woman right now. As her husband, you ought to show her more understanding and consideration. Why do you never listen? Honestly, your emotional intelligence is just too low—you don’t know how to say sweet words to coax your wife! And you always carry such a cold, stern face. Sigh, you really are a handful!"

This speech perfectly showcased the magnanimity of an elder sister-in-law. On the surface, she was defending Elise and lecturing Dylan, but between the lines, she was subtly implying that Elise had a terrible temper and that they all had to constantly walk on eggshells around her.

Elise gave Fleur a cold, sweeping glance. What a flawless performance of using retreat as a means of attack.

She couldn’t be bothered to pay Fleur any attention, finding it utterly pointless. Furthermore, Robin was right here. For the sake of the child, she could turn a blind eye, but she certainly wasn’t going to compromise herself. She wasn’t eating this offal, and no one was going to force a single bite down her throat!

Dylan raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. "Fleur, you’ve been busy all morning and you’re tired. Please sit down and eat."

"Alright, let me go take off my apron first." As Fleur spoke, she looked at Elise, her smile remaining deeply affectionate.

"Elise, Dylan just has this stubborn, bull-headed streak. Don’t look at the fact that he and his older brother are twins—their tempers are completely different. Don’t lower yourself to his level. I’ll make sure to give him a good talking-to for you later!"

Elise didn’t chime in. Instead, she stood up and quietly ladled out two bowls of soup. One bowl contained a chicken drumstick, which she handed to Robin.

Robin had been watching the "drama" unfold ever since he sat down. Although he didn’t fully grasp the complexities of adult affairs, he could tell that Elise was unhappy.

"Godmom, do you like chicken drumsticks?" Robin looked up at Elise. "Our teacher told us that chicken drumsticks are very nutritious. If you like them, then I’ll give mine to you. But if you don’t like them, you shouldn’t force yourself, okay?"

Look at that—even a five-year-old child understood that one shouldn’t force others in the name of love.

Looking at how incredibly sensible Robin was, Elise leaned down, sat back in her seat, and stroked his head.

"Thank you, Robin. Godmom likes chicken drumsticks too. But you don’t need to give me yours. A single chicken has two drumsticks, so we can have one each, alright?"

"Yay!" Robin beamed. "Then where is your drumstick, Godmom?"

Elise gave him a gentle smile. "I’ll drink some soup first and eat it in a bit."

"Okay!" Robin turned to look at Dylan, his small face deadly serious. "Daddy, the thing Godmom likes to eat is chicken drumsticks, and they are nutritious too. So please don’t force Mommy to eat pork liver anymore, okay?"

Hearing this, Dylan glanced at Elise, who was quietly sipping her soup, his eyes dark and unreadable. After a brief pause, he responded in a deep, solemn voice, "Daddy understands. I’ll pay closer attention in the future."

"Robin, you’ve misunderstood. Your father and I never had any intention of forcing your godmom," Fleur explained with a smile, looking at the boy.

Robin looked at Fleur. His gaze lingered on her face, which was plastered with a forced, friendly smile.

Then, he lowered his head, staring at the chicken drumstick in his bowl as he muttered under his breath, "You are forcing people. You don’t just force Godmom, you force me too..."