Isaac was smirking at Marcus's clear discomfort. Truth be told, he hated interrupting him but he wasn't going to apologise for it. He didn't understand why Marcus seemed so angry that he had or why he kept the room locked.
"It's beautiful." he said after the elf left, "The room, I mean." He shrugged and watched him work, his head laid back against the back of the chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. "My mum used to let me help tend the plants in the greenhouse with her," he was quiet for a moment. "Until she got sick enough that she had to be confined to her room." His mother's slow slide into dementia was not something he talked about to anyone and he cut off as the elf returned with the glasses. He blamed his father for his mum's mental state, he was too harsh and abusive to her.
"I kill them, I discovered that I have no talent for herbology after mum stopped taking care of them."