The air in the garden had curdled, turning thick and stale. Olivia didn't miss the way Leon's face had locked into a frozen mask of dread—a sharp, jagged contrast to Mathias, whose expression hadn't shifted by so much as a hair. It was a terrifying display of composure, the kind of stillness that usually preceded a massacre.
She stepped toward them, her footsteps silent on the damp grass, her presence a cold challenge.
"Is everything alright, Mathias?" she asked, her voice steady, searching for the crack in his marble facade.
Mathias turned to her, his features smoothing into a look that was almost pleasant, yet utterly hollow. "Yes. In fact, it's better than I expected. Just... an administrative matter."
"Truly?" She arched an eyebrow, the skepticism dripping from her tone like acid. "Then share this 'good news' with me. I could use a reason to celebrate."
