Sure enough, before they could even exhale, five people landed in a familiar space.
Princess Nina's drawing room.
"!!!"
Uno immediately felt his arms, then his legs, before confirming that yes, they had seriously just popped in from somewhere else.
Marshal Julian, meanwhile, sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn't sure which part to address first or even what he could safely say outside.
And when his gaze slid over to Killian—who looked every bit sour and constipated—he finally understood why the young man always looked like he was about to keel over far too early in life.
All he could manage was, "You've worked hard," before giving him a pat on the back.
Killian wanted to scream. Whose fault did he think it was that he had worked so hard?!
But before the walking corpse could let loose his frustrations, a voice rang out.
"Killian."
Shit.
No title. No ceremony. Just his name, spoken the way it had been when he was still a boy playing around the palace.
