Damian walked through the ballroom at a deliberate, leisurely pace. He was flanked by Maximilian, his younger half-brother, who was always composed and at ease; Astana, the stoic figure, casting a calm but intimidating shadow; and Christian, whose youthful enthusiasm was tempered by the grandeur of the evening, adding a touch of life to the otherwise calculated group.
Behind them, the attendants and guards moved with military precision, keeping an eye out. The Emperor was the focal point of the gathering, his mere presence commanding everyone's respect without a word spoken. His attire was a magnificent deep red robe with intricate black and gold details. His piercing gaze swept across the room, assessing each noble's reaction.
And then he noticed Gabriel.
Gabriel stood at the edge of the crowd, his dark brown eyes sweeping the room with detached ease. However, Damian's attention was drawn to something—someone—who stood nearby.
