The atmosphere in the library was calm, with the only sounds being the quiet ticking of a wall clock and the soft crackling of the fire.
Rows of old books filled the shelves, their spines carrying the aromas of age and dust.
Gentle, thoughtful lighting illuminated the room; an antique lamp on a side table and another by the window cast a cozy golden hue over the leather chairs.
Arthur sat in one of the chairs, holding his posture straight, a glass of wine untouched at his side.
Julian entered silently, hands folded in his pockets, his pace relaxed. He had traded his usual sharp suit for a cardigan and dark pants, a rare look for someone who approached even breakfast as if it were a business meeting.
He paused at the entrance, observing Arthur's profile before breaking the stillness.
"Every time I walk in here," Julian said softly, "it feels less like a library and more like a courtroom."
Arthur looked up, a slight smile appearing. "Then who's on trial tonight?"
