The last course had been cleared, the final toast made, and the hall was easing into that lull where people lingered more out of habit than necessity. Lucas had endured every minute with the same polished smile, answering small talk with the kind of charm that made courtiers preen. But beneath the table, Trevor's hand rested over his, steady and warm, a quiet reminder of the promise he'd whispered before they left the suite.
By the time the last polite laugh rippled around the table, Lucas was done.
He set his napkin down with measured grace and leaned toward Trevor with a smile so controlled it was practically weaponized. "We're leaving," he murmured, soft enough for only him to hear.
