The sudden appearance of the youngest Prince caught everyone off guard. But even more surprising was the man who followed behind him—the Crown Prince himself, Tristan von Aldercrest.
"What's going on here?" asked the eighteen-year-old Prince, his brows drawn together in a sharp frown.
Eric stepped forward, calm and composed, and addressed the room so everyone could hear. "Bumping into someone by accident doesn't give anyone the right to throw a punch. Tell me if I'm wrong, gentlemen."
The blue-haired boy kept his head down, his fists clenched in silence. Count Drevon stood nearby, his face caught in a mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and maybe even guilt.
Eric then turned to face the Duke and his son, his voice firm yet even. "And after that... mocking someone for their present, laughing at their choice—surely that's not acceptable either."
