Julies rose to his feet, his hand brushing the dust from his coat as he turned to Amelia.
"Ready to face the Earl of Frost?"
She met his gaze steadily, her expression calm but unreadable. "I was born in his house, Julies. Ready or not doesn't matter."
Julies gave a quiet chuckle, half amusement, half resignation. He adjusted his coat collar, straightened his gloves, and muttered under his breath, "I've faced dukes, demons, and worse. How bad could one Earl be?"
Amelia shot him a side glance, clearly unconvinced.
"Let's go," he said lightly. "To see the person who'll decide what to do with me."
She followed a step behind, her voice barely audible. "Instead of offering military support, it looks more like he'll throw me out."
Julies glanced at her, a teasing smile curling his lips. "Who knows? I doubt it. Didn't you say the Count is interested in me?"
Amelia sighed, rubbing her temple. "That wasn't supposed to mean he'd tolerate your attitude."
