The Entrance Hall.
Azael stepped out of the chamber first.
Isabel followed quietly behind him.
He walked through the corridor with an unhurried ease, his polished black shoes making a soft, measured sound against the floor.
As he moved, the inner lining of his coat shifted. Deep crimson, vivid against all that navy blue. A quiet contrast. The detail that wasn't meant to announce itself.
Slim dark trousers. Polished black shoes. He looked charming.
He looked composed. A young handsome noble man. Like someone who had been born knowing how to occupy a room.
Isabel kept pace a respectful distance behind him, her hands folded neatly, her expression settled back into its professional calm, though anyone paying close enough attention might have noticed the faint color still sitting in her cheeks.
They reached the entrance hall.
Three figures were already waiting near the front of the house.
Isabel stopped and lowered herself into a proper bow, her voice quiet and respectful.
