The air on the upper balcony turned brittle, heavy enough to shatter.
Julian’s hand remained frozen in mid-air, holding the silver fountain pen over the open leather portfolio. His refined, handsome face twisted into a flicker of genuine shock, quickly replaced by a dark, dangerous irritation. Beside him, Caspian’s dull brown eyes narrowed into thin slits, his posture stiffening as the usual facade of the indulgent older brother slipped.
"Evelyn," Julian said, his voice dropping into a low, warning hiss that barely carried over the swelling orchestral music below. "Do not be foolish. The estate council is watching from the main floor. Refusing to sign a simple administrative transfer in front of the high nobility makes you look unstable—unfit to handle the family ledger."
"Unfit?" Evely
