The conversation around the Sterling table had carried the weight of ambition, loyalty, morality, and the invisible gears of power. Rex had held his ground, answering calmly even when the questions pressed deeper than surface banter. For a moment, silence hovered, as if the family had reached the edge of the debate. Glasses clinked faintly, the fire cracked in the hearth, and someone exhaled as though loosening the invisible collar of gravity.
It was Uncle Charles, the banker, who finally broke it. He leaned back in his chair with a dry smile.
"Well, that was heavier than I expected for dessert," he said. "We've dragged the poor boy through morality, loyalty, and the fate of nations. At this rate, Rex will think Sterling dinners are training grounds for diplomats."
That drew laughter, a soft ripple that relaxed the room. Aunt Miriam wagged her fork at Charles. "Oh, don't be dramatic. It's good to know he can spar with words, not just numbers."
