Javier sighed as he finished tying his robe, then stepped out of the steam-filled chamber, following his brothers into the corridor.
"Alright, little brother, don't be late. Or you'll be in trouble. Heh." Marcellus smirked, his tone playful.
But then he straightened his back, his face shifting into a mock-serious expression. His voice deepened, perfectly imitating their father.
"Javier… why are you late? Hmm? Do you not understand that a noble's lateness is not measured in minutes, but in respect? That a single delay can unravel trust, stain reputation, and shame the house? A ruler who arrives late arrives unprepared, and a man unprepared invites disaster."
Cedric stepped forward, shaking his head. "No, Marcellus. It's not like that. It's like this."
He adjusted his posture.
