Florian didn't care about the king of Serenson. Not really.
Yes, King Marius carried himself with the kind of dignity yet he also seemed humble—the broad shoulders. But Florian's gaze slid past him almost instantly.
He couldn't deny, however, that Athena bore her father's features. The line of his jaw, the soft clarity in his gaze—it was there in her, softened by her youth, but unmistakable.
Still, that was… irrelevant.
There was also Hendrix. Of course, Florian already knew Hendrix.
He was very familiar with Hendrix.
The crowd's hushed murmurs swelled when he entered, and Florian caught the way Heinz's grip on his arm tightened, firm enough to ground him.
A reaction. Florian's chest tensed, catching the subtle shift of power in that small gesture.
It was obvious Heinz was the one who was affected by Hendrix's presence the most, but he did try to conceal it.
But no. Even that wasn't what seized Florian's attention.
It was Monica Serenson.
