"Would you like tea?"
Leo von Silberhain's voice was steady, polite, and infuriatingly formal.
He waved his hand lightly, and a maid stepped forward in perfect silence.
The porcelain clinked as she poured steaming liquid into two cups and set one down before Lucius with both hands.
Lucius didn't touch it immediately.
His eyes narrowed at the faint ripples in the surface.
He let his perception flow into it, brushing against the invisible threads of space particles hovering in the drink.
Nothing unusual.
No poison.
No hidden drug.
It was just tea.
And still, the man didn't trust it.
Finally, he lifted the cup, took a slow sip —
and nearly choked on the spot.
'This shit's ass.' His thoughts screamed, though outwardly he lowered the cup with calm professionalism, setting it back on the saucer as if savoring the aftertaste.
His lips didn't twitch, his eyes didn't betray him.
But inwardly he was gagging.
