The atmosphere in the Mondell estate crackled with tension. Word of the unexpected visit from the Fleur Empire had spread quickly, sending the household into a quiet frenzy. Servants hurried to prepare the grand hall while the Mondell family gathered in formal attire, their expressions guarded.
Leon stood beside Edwin, who kept a firm, reassuring hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Atlas, dressed in a dark, understated cloak that only hinted at his noble heritage, positioned himself near Leon, eyes narrowed and jaw set in grim determination. He had expected the Empire to make their move, but not this soon.
The heavy double doors of the hall creaked open, and in stepped the envoy—a tall, imposing man with sharp features and eyes the color of ice. His uniform, adorned with the intricate insignia of the Fleur Empire, gleamed under the hall's chandeliers. He scanned the room with a practiced, cold gaze that settled on Atlas, a glimmer of recognition flashing in his eyes.
"I bring greetings from His Majesty, Emperor Florent," the envoy announced, his voice cutting through the silence. The air grew thick, each word loaded with hidden meaning. "We come to retrieve what rightfully belongs to the Empire."
Leon's chest tightened. The man's stare was so piercing, so direct, it felt like he could unravel Atlas's carefully maintained facade. Leon's hand, which had been trembling at his side, found Atlas's fingers. The contact was fleeting but enough to steel Atlas's resolve.
"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific," Edwin said, stepping forward as the eldest of the Mondell brothers, his tone measured but with an edge that warned of trouble. "This is our home. State your business plainly."
The envoy's lips curved into a thin smile. "The Duke of De Luna," he said, letting the title echo through the hall. "Atlas Rafael, son of Lady Elysande of the imperial bloodline, is hereby summoned to return to the Empire and fulfill his duty."
A murmur swept through the gathered household. Leon's mind raced; he could feel Atlas's heartbeat pounding against their linked hands. For a moment, it felt like the walls were closing in. But before the envoy could continue, Atlas stepped forward, dropping Leon's hand with reluctance.
"I left that life behind," Atlas said, his voice steady and defiant. "I owe nothing to the Empire."
The envoy's smile vanished, replaced by a shadow of irritation. "Your refusal would be seen as an act of rebellion, punishable by—"
"Punishable by what?" A new voice cut in. It was Fredrick, the patriarch of the Mondell family, who had been silently observing from the head of the room. His presence commanded attention, and the hall fell silent. "This is Mondell territory, and no one lays a hand on my family without consequence."
The envoy's expression hardened, but he inclined his head, not wishing to test the Mondell patriarch's patience. "We shall see," he said, casting one final look at Atlas before turning on his heel. "The Empire will not wait long."
As the doors closed behind him, a collective breath was released. The weight of what had just transpired lingered, a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. Leon turned to Atlas, seeing the conflict in his eyes—a mixture of relief, anger, and something deeper, a fear that refused to be spoken aloud.
"We're in this together," Leon said softly, pressing his palm to Atlas's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
Atlas covered Leon's hand with his own, eyes dark with resolve. "Yes, we are."