The Presidential Suite at the Imperial Hotel was wrapped in quiet luxury.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, sunlight glinting off glass towers far below.
Plush carpets muted every sound, and the air carried a faint scent of polished wood and fresh flowers arranged on the marble table nearby.
Finley Morgan sat on the cream colored sofa, his posture straight despite the long day.
His phone rested in his palm, the screen lighting up as the call connected.
One by one, familiar faces appeared, filling the screen with a mixture of anticipation and restrained emotion.
"Finley, how is it?" Nicholas Morgan asked immediately, leaning closer to the camera. His eyes were bright, and his voice could not hide his excitement. "Did you meet that person? Who is he?"
Before Finley could answer, another voice joined in. "Is he your aunt's son?" Theodor Morgan asked, his brows drawn together.
"And is he from Grayenfall?" Nicholas added, barely pausing for breath.
