Felix narrowed his eyes at Prince Tristin.
The corners of his lips twitched into a faint smile, though there wasn't the slightest hint of amusement behind it. He leaned comfortably against the back of his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers lightly tapping the polished wooden armrest.
"Would I ever lie about something this obvious?"
His voice was firm, carrying the confidence of someone who had witnessed everything with his own eyes.
The spacious reception room gradually became quiet.
Warm morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.
Rich crimson curtains hung neatly on both sides, while expensive paintings of Felix himself and his mother decorated the walls. The scent of freshly poured fruit wine drifted through the air as several maids and butlers still quietly moved around the room, serving drinks and refreshments without disturbing the conversation.
Every servant understood their place.
