The Diplomatic Summit had dissolved into a boring, albeit profitable, cocktail hour.
Lord Sterling was gone, dragged away screaming about his girdle. The High Councilors were currently debating the viscosity of the Northern wine with General Marcus.
Elian stood in the corner, vibrating with anxiety.
[Current LP: 1100][Target: 1500 LP][Deficit: 400 LP]
He had 48 hours to bridge the gap, but looking at Cassian—who was currently staring at a tapestry with cold, predatory boredom—Elian knew the Prince's patience wouldn't last that long.
"Steward," Cassian's voice murmured. The Prince had moved silently, cutting through the crowd without a ripple. "The Council is debating wool prices. I am done listening."
"Distract me," Cassian added, his shoulder brushing Elian's.
A System window popped up, responding to Elian's desperation and the Prince's proximity.
