Julian raised his hand slowly. A small flame flickered into life in his palm, dancing gently but menacingly in the silence that followed.
"Why, you ask?" he whispered.
The fire began to swirl, coiling like a snake, and wrapped around his fingers.
"You and I are above flattery, Marquis," he said, his voice calm but cutting. "You speak of the King of Apollo as if he's some magnificent god, descending upon the world to bless it with light and wisdom. But I highly doubt that."
The flame suddenly hissed, shifting colors for a moment before he let it fade.
"I have heard the stories. "I have read between the lines," Julian continued.
"Powerful men don't offer partnerships out of goodwill. They extend their hands when they want something. So, unless you stop the show and tell me exactly what the King truly wants, and more importantly, what you want, then I won't even consider entertaining this… offer."
The room fell into silence again, heavy and charged.
