"Let's sit down." Monica's voice was smooth, almost inviting, as she gestured toward one of the pristine couches draped in silver embroidery. Without hesitation, she moved with grace and settled herself elegantly onto another across from it.
Florian followed, his steps hesitant. His mind kept replaying her earlier words.
"I believe, if King Heinz saw you wanted for comfort, he would have brought you here as well. So…"
The sentence gnawed at him like a riddle. 'What did that even mean? Why bring up Heinz like that? Was it just politeness, or something else?'
He sat down carefully, the plush cushion dipping beneath him. The room was quiet now, the laughter and music of the ballroom muted behind closed doors. It felt strangely too intimate.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
