The study was quiet, except for the faint crackle of the fireplace.
Outside, the palace gardens swayed under the late afternoon sun, golden light streaming through tall windows.
Sebastian stood near the desk, dark coat draped elegantly over his shoulders, hands clasped behind him. He didn't move to sit; he never sat when matters were delicate.
Edward, Aliena's father, was leaning lightly against the arm of a chair, his hands folded over his stomach. His gaze was calm but tinged with worry, the kind of worry that didn't go away with words.
"I don't know if I should be grateful or terrified," Edward said quietly, breaking the silence. His voice held a father's edge: cautious, protective, but with a hint of resignation.
Sebastian tilted his head. "Terrified of what?"
