As Ingrid's wide-eyed gaze settled on Sten, her initial shock quickly gave way to a stern expression. "This is not the time for jokes. Crown. Prince. Sten," she admonished, her tone piercing as she locked eyes with him.
Sten remained unmoved, though his gaze shifted uncomfortably. "I am not joking," he insisted, his voice firm but tinged with apprehension.
Ingrid swiftly switched to their native Ásján language. "What are you doing? Do not be so imposing asking to stay in someone else's house," she reprimanded him sharply.
Sten swallowed hard, avoiding Ingrid's intense gaze. "It is the owner who will decide," he retorted, stealing a glance at Caym.
Caym remained composed, his calm demeanor unwavering. "I do not mind," he stated calmly, his tone betraying no hint of annoyance or discomfort.
