Micah's emerald eyes were glinting with mischief as he continued, "How could I not know something so easy to predict?" He leaned back slightly, confidence radiating from him.
"Well, I didn't know he would," Number Ten admitted.
Micah let out a light, airy laugh that echoed through the room. "Ten, that's only because you aren't experienced enough in the intricate dance of politics."
…
As Micah and Number Ten stepped into the grand main hall, a flurry of activity erupted among the servants. They hurriedly arranged elegant chairs and laid out an array of refreshments, the sweet and savory aromas wafting through the air.
Micah and Number Ten settled into their chairs, the plush cushions enveloping them in comfort as they faced Duke Windsor. The Duke, however, stood rigidly before them, his expression darkening as he remained without a seat. His complexion took on a pallid hue, bordering on ominous.
"Why have you come to see me and Number Ten today?" Micah started the conversation.
