The tea had been brought to the small side parlor, a space more intimate than the grand dining hall. The low table was set with fine porcelain cups, steam curling lazily upward from freshly poured tea. Nadoka had excused herself shortly after breakfast, leaving only the Marquis, Valeria, and Lucavion to carry on the conversation—or what was left of it after the morning's tension.
The Marquis sat back in his chair, his hands wrapped around his teacup, his posture more relaxed than it had been earlier. Still, his sharp gaze flicked between Lucavion and Valeria, his mind clearly working through the implications of the discussion.
