The so-called party ended.
If it could even be called one. To Julian, it felt more like a parade of numbers and polished words than celebration.
Each speech blended into the next, voices droning about markets, mergers, and growth forecasts. The smell of wine and perfume had grown cloying, pressing against his nose like a weight.
For a warrior who once measured time by the rhythm of combat, the hours here crawled like chains
The real festivities—the countdown to the new year—wouldn't begin until 11:00 PM.
But all Julian wanted in that moment… was sleep.
"Julian, remember," Crest reminded, her tone calm but edged with command. "After the break, you'll need to meet with your father."
Julian gave a short nod. No argument, no complaint. Just acknowledgment.
