Then, with the court still reeling from the shock, Julian stepped forward and knelt briefly before the king. It was respect, sure, but laced with something untouchable, a silent claim to the power just bestowed.
Rising, he turned and descended the staircase of the platform, each step echoing in the vast hall. All eyes were on him—nobles, royals, servants, every soul pinned to his every move. His deep blue gaze swept the room, calm and piercing, as he walked past his four guardians.
They fell in behind him without a word—Joseph's broad shoulders rolling, Liam's quick steps matching his, Lias scanning the crowd, Raphael steady as iron—following like shadows. Their presence was a wall, amplifying the weight of Julian's exit.
Hallie stumbled back, her hand clutching the back of her chair for support. "Father, no—" she choked out, but her voice cracked. Her eyes darted from the King to Julian's retreating figure then to Ivan, who stood frozen.
