"Your Highness, are you alright?" Mitchell caught his hand at once, voice low and urgent at his ear. "Please—don't force yourself."
"I'm fine! Stop overreacting!" Ryley hissed back.
He straightened, puffed out his chest, then turned long enough to offer Madam Beckett a quick, proper bow—before striding off toward the sudden intruders, pain be damned.
Behind the wall of guards restraining the intruders, Ryley narrowed his eyes.
"Who are these people—ugh, forget it," he started to ask Mitchell, then cut himself off. He didn't have the patience. Drawing in a breath, he stepped forward and spoke firmly, "Let them through."
The guards hesitated, then parted.
As the intruders were given a path, Ryley swallowed and addressed them evenly. "Gentlemen. If you'll allow me, we can discuss this in a private room—"
"No, we don't want to discuss anything with you," one of them snapped, striding closer with a hard, threatening glare. "We want this building back! Didn't you hear us?"
