"Pardon," Regulus Cogsworth said, his voice cutting through the silence like the edge of a polished blade.
His tone was steady—refined even—but there was a weight behind it, the kind that pressed down hard enough to bruise.
"But who are you to say such words to us? You're merely a part of King Heinz's harem, much like our daughters are."
It didn't sound cruel, not at first.
But the intent was sharp.
Pointed.
The murmurs started again—low and uneasy.
Florian didn't flinch, but something in his chest twisted painfully.
Before he could respond, another voice rang out.
"Watch your tone, Cogsworth."
It was Leticia—his mother.
Her voice was clear, her expression fierce, and behind her stood several of the royal women, their glares cutting toward Regulus like daggers. Kazaria was among them, her sword already half drawn.
