Julian felt a chill that had nothing to do with the venom. The thought of his father's icy eyes or his brothers' mocking sneers was more than he could stomach in this state. He didn't have the energy to play the role of the dutiful, discarded son.
He squeezed his eyes shut, a hand coming up to rub at his temples. "I... I can't meet them, Your Grace. I feel a headache coming on. A bad one. I'd just like to rest."
Duke Alaric watched him closely. He didn't know the specifics of the Astrea household—only the cold, public facts. He knew Julian was an illegitimate child, a 'mistake' that couldn't be kept in the shadows, but seeing the genuine physical recoil in Julian's posture told him everything he needed to know.
This wasn't just a headache. It was an avoidance of a different kind of poison.
The Duke's expression shifted, settling into something dark and immovable. He stood up, his eyes still locked on Julian.
