What Do You Intend for My Daughter?
Julia stepped forward, the soft hem of her uniform brushing against the marble floor. Her bow was low, voice calm yet steady.
"My lords," she said, each word deliberate, "as you commanded—I have brought both."
Her words cut through the gentle hum of the pavilion's night silence.
Lord Shan Suncrest raised his gaze from the steaming cup of tea before him. His golden eyes caught the lamplight, glinting like melted amber. Across from him, Ania's fork froze midair, the small piece of cake trembling slightly between the tines. Slowly, both turned their heads toward the entrance.
Victor stood there, tall and poised, Sasha beside him—her expression cautious, uncertain, but composed. The lamplight framed them in soft gold, a faint shimmer catching on Victor's dark hair.
A warm smile spread across Lord Shan's face as he set his teacup down with a quiet clink. The sound was small, but it carried authority.
