SAMANTHA
The heavy doors of the main hall swung open, and the first of the brothers entered. Jayce staggered in, his steps unsteady, his clothes disheveled and wrinkled. His shirt was untucked, hanging loose over his trousers, and his hair was wild and unkempt, sticking up in all directions. He reeked of sex and cheap perfume, the unmistakable evidence of his debauchery. His eyes were half-lidded, as if he had just been dragged from some sordid encounter, and a lazy smirk played at the corners of his lips.
"Father..." Jayce drawled, his voice thick with annoyance. "What is this all about? I was in the middle of something important. Couldn't this have waited?"
