"Lord Rafael Rosenroth, second son of House Rosenroth, accompanied by the delegation of Pais."
Gabriel blinked once, slowly.
And there he was.
Rafael walked with the kind of stiff, practiced elegance only court tutors could force into a child's bones. Every line of him screamed preparation: spine straight, chin held just shy of defiant, shoes polished, sleeves tailored to perfection. The Paisian colors were discreet in his lapel, barely more than a thread of garnet and black on ivory silk, and the crest he wore was his father's, but the steps were all his own.
He was doing everything right. Gabriel could see it. The pace. The angle of his bow when he neared the dais. Even the exact second he paused before stepping into the full view of the imperial line.
And yet…
He was trembling.
