The balcony was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the dry leaves as tea cooled between untouched saucers.
"So, my lord, what is it that my lord wants from this humble servant…?" Aiden preached, his voice low and polished, his posture composed yet pliant. His golden-yellow eyes, almost unnatural in their glow, cut across the table like sharp glass, catching the viscount's own.
Augustus shifted, the weight of his thoughts pressing into the lines at the corners of his mouth. His fingers traced the rim of his cup, leaving a faint trembling ripple in the tea.
"Aiden…" he began, his voice dropping as though the shadows themselves leaned in to listen, "What I am going to say is secret. A big one. So keep it hush, even from my wife."
'….huh, John already heard it, what kind of secret are we gonna talk about?' Aiden thought.
The moment that last word left August's lips, Aiden caught a flicker—hesitation, even guilt. The kind that no lord wanted to admit in front of his servant.
