The doors opened, and the hall fell silent.
Lysandra stepped in first, posture straight, presence unquestioned. Trafalgar followed half a pace behind her, and the effect was immediate. Conversations died mid-sentence. Laughter vanished. Even the servants froze where they stood, trays half-lifted, eyes turning as one.
Every gaze settled on him. Not mockery. Not dismissal. Those were gone. What replaced them was sharper, heavier. Interest. Ambition. Calculation. He felt it in the way their eyes lingered, in the way some leaned forward while others narrowed their gaze, already weighing possibilities that hadn't existed an hour ago.
A year ago, he would have been invisible here.
Now he was the center.
