Aiden pointed with an elegant hand and, in a firm voice, said:
"Take a seat, young heir to the Abraham family, Michel Abraham, and Kael Medici."
Kael stood tall, the mask of coins covering his face, hiding any trace of emotion. Beneath the metal, his cold gaze dissected every detail of the baron, assessing his bearing and his intentions.
With a barely perceptible gesture, he took his seat, every movement measured, controlled.
Elizabeth, at his side, watched him with sharp eyes, like a predator sizing up its prey. Kael didn't even give her a second thought. Prodigy or not, she was irrelevant to him.
Michel mimicked the movement, maintaining an impassive expression. Ever since he had been called by his title as the young heir, his caution was at its peak.
Aiden, meanwhile, rested his head on one hand and let a smile spread across his lips before speaking with studied calm.
