Trevor straightened his frame, the casual slouch rolling off his shoulders like a discarded coat. His expression cooled by degrees, his posture sharpening until there was no trace of the affectionate husband who had just waved off his elegantly kidnapped spouse; only the Grand Duke remained.
He watched the black sedan disappear down the winding road, followed closely by three shadowing vehicles like silent wolves. A parade disguised as a private outing.
"I should thank Grandma that she was so fast in taking Lucas with her," he said at last, voice quiet, measured.
Windstone, falling into step beside him, gave a small nod. "Well, she likes him… a lot. I think she nearly flew her own jet just to get here in time."
Trevor's mouth curled faintly, not a smile, but close. "She only flies when it's personal."
"And this is," Windstone confirmed. "Deeply."
