Sirius turned without waiting for permission and started walking. Ethan followed, because he'd already agreed and because backing down in front of that circle would haunt him for the rest of his life.
The noise of the ballroom faded as soon as they crossed the threshold. Music turned into a dull pulse behind heavy doors. The air changed from perfume to cold stone and polished wood.
Ethan kept his pace steady, hands loosely at his sides, posture neutral. He'd learned quickly that in palaces, body language was a language. You could say the wrong thing with your shoulders.
Sirius didn't speak until they reached a side corridor. Guards were spaced out at intervals, looking decorative the way armed men always looked when they were pretending to be decor. Ethan clocked them automatically. He couldn't stop himself. Structural instincts: assess load, find exits, confirm what holds.
