It was the first day of the summit.
"...fuck."
Florian stood stiffly at the grand entrance of Diamond Palace, his arms straight at his sides, eyes ringed with fatigue and slightly puffy from lack of sleep. The marble beneath his shoes gleamed like glass, and yet all he could focus on was the pounding in his skull and the heaviness behind his eyes.
Any minute now, the dukes would arrive.
And Florian felt like death.
He blinked a few times, trying to stay alert. The palace grounds were pristine and lively. The red carpets had been laid, the gilded doors flung open in a fanfare of ceremony. Everyone was dressed to impress. Even the guards were sharper than usual, standing at rigid attention.
And yet... Florian could barely keep himself upright.
He hadn't slept. Not a single hour.
'Gods, I look awful.'
"Why do you look tired?" a low voice whispered beside him, smooth and cool like silk across his skin.
Florian didn't even have to turn his head to know who it was.
Heinz.
