Heinz tensed.
Florian felt it instantly—through the subtle shift in his posture, the way his grip around Florian's hand faltered for just a second before steadying again. A small, nearly imperceptible tremor traveled from Heinz's fingers into his own.
It was enough.
For whatever reason, the King really didn't want to drink. He never explained why—not once, not even in passing. And it wasn't due to anything obvious. He had no known health condition, nor had he ever claimed to be allergic to alcohol. Physically, he was in perfect condition. Magic-wise, he was leagues above everyone else in the room.
'Does it have something to do with his trauma?' Florian wondered, his gaze flickering to Alaric, who was still watching Heinz with that thin-lipped, pointed smile.
No matter the reason—Heinz clearly didn't intend to speak for himself.
So Florian did what Florian always ended up doing when things got too complicated. He picked up the slack.
