The fourth floor was quieter, the hum of printers and low conversations filling the space.
A wide window spilled daylight across polished desks arranged in neat clusters.
Mr. Max waited near the front, a file tucked under his arm, his posture relaxed in a way that set him apart from Georgia's sharp edges downstairs.
He smiled when the group entered, eyes sweeping across the new interns—then lingering just a second too long on Noel.
"Welcome to International Relations and Trade," he said warmly. "You've all passed the first hurdle just by getting here. Now comes the real work."
Ren adjusted his tie, standing straighter.
Jace shoved his hands into his pockets, looking unimpressed already.
Noel, calm as ever, took a seat without fuss.
