Violet had just mastered clipping the cufflinks, following Cain's precise and annoyingly meticulous instructions, when a loud knock echoed through the room. It wasn't the kind of knock one could mistake—a heavy, commanding sound that belonged to only one man in the mansion.
"Come in," Cain said, his tone calm, yet carrying the weight of unspoken authority.
The door opened, revealing Ravon, who entered with a line of servants trailing behind him. While Ravon bowed low, the rest fell to their knees, their submission an almost choreographed display of reverence.
"Lord Cain," Ravon began, but Cain's raised hand cut him off before he could say more.
"I'll be heading out in a couple of hours. The usual bar," Cain announced.
