Lucas entered under the faint glow of lanterns strung between the hedges. His composure was calm, neither hurried nor hesitant, though he felt the weight of eyes upon him.
The King stood a little straighter, his stern face softening with the faintest smile. "Xavier," he said, his tone warm yet commanding, "come forward."
Lucas moved closer, and when he reached the proper distance, he stopped and bowed deeply, first to his sovereign. "Your Majesty." Then he turned his bow to the visiting monarch. "Your Imperial Majesty." His voice was clear, his posture respectful but not groveling, carrying the balance of loyalty and dignity.
