"I suppose so," Abbadon glanced at her. Still a bit nervous as he made his way over towards the door, the palace was silent. Not a word uttered or murmured to another as he guided her towards the dining hall. The faint sound of music filling his ears and the murmuring of his surperiors rang through his ears. He glanced back behind him, making his way towards the large door. This would not be silent at all, Abbadon reached up on his hind legs to push the knob down. Pressing the door open as he soon entered the room quietly. A few glances were brought upon him before he made his way to a seat, an empty one next to him for Chenoa.
The plate was empty, he stared at it until his father spoke. "You're late." And Abbadon in response silently apologized, keeping his eyes on his plate was his stomach filled with butterflies.