To be fair, even if they hadn't looked like they had all come straight from the runway, it would have still been difficult for Riley to leave.
Because in the grand scheme of things, every single one of these so-called "servants" was far stronger than him.
If he even tried to shove them aside, it would be like slamming into a wall. Not quite the Kael kind of wall—thankfully—but still a wall. And with this many? What exactly was he supposed to do?
Politely reject, of course.
Starting with a strained smile, Riley bowed his head slightly. "Really, there's no need. I wouldn't want to trouble you."
One of them bowed back, serene as a saint. "But it is our honor, my lord. Please allow us."
"No, truly, I mean it. I'll manage myself."
Another one stepped forward smoothly, smile so bright Riley swore he could hear harp music. "It is our duty. Please, let us."
And so it began—a duel of politeness.
