"Silver for your thoughts, Your Highness?" Lucius asked gently, his voice cutting through the quiet tension that had settled between them like mist on a cold morning.
Florian blinked, the weight of his thoughts momentarily dislodged by the unexpected question. He turned to Lucius, his expression softening. "Oh… I was just… thinking about the current issue."
'Thinking? That's putting it lightly.'
He wasn't just thinking—he was spiraling. Between Delilah's betrayal-that-wasn't, the looming test from the princesses, Drizelous' unexpected vulnerability, and Azure's return, it was as if his brain had become an overcrowded ballroom, thoughts dancing frantically with no music to guide them.
Florian exhaled quietly. He knew Lucius—and probably Lancelot too—were now aware of most of the situation. Maybe not every twisted, tangled thread of it, but the important parts.
That there were possibly two perpetrators. That Delilah was under threat. That her life might be hanging by a thread.
