"Grand Duchess, Their Highnesses, Mr. Andrew Malek has arrived."
The effect was immediate. Mia froze, teacup halfway to her lips. Serathine's brow arched with interest, while Cressida's lips curved faintly, as though she had been waiting for this moment. Sirius leaned back in his chair, all too eager for the show.
Andrew stepped into the room with the weight of a man who had carried responsibility too long on his own shoulders. Tall and broad-shouldered, with his dark hair swept neatly back and his coat on his arm. His vest and tie, black against the crisp white shirt, the sharp line of his glasses catching the chandelier's light.
His eyes, a cutting shade of brown under the silver rims, swept the table once before fixing on Mia. His voice carried, low and even, with the quiet authority of an alpha who didn't need to raise it to command.
"Greetings, Your Highnesses." He bowed politely.
Lucius inclined his head with the cool precision of a man weighing every detail. "Mr. Malek."
