Klaus opens his mouth to retort, but he snaps it shut instead. It's always so different when his siblings get snappish with him, rather than literally anyone else. What they think, what they say, matters. How he makes them feel, matters.

He practically crumbles right on the spot, feet dragged up onto the rung of his chair, all of his body language curled inward. His stomach suddenly feels like it's been filled with lead and he's quiet through the rest of dinner, left sipping his drink and staring at the remnants of his dinner on his plate.