Sebathine paused only a fraction before adding, "And as for Master Throne, though it was his first hunt under royal banner, he conducted himself with composure. He did not falter when pressed, and… he adapted swiftly."
His tone shifted — not by much, not enough for most to notice. But it softened, losing the rigid edge he maintained when speaking of the princes. It carried a thread of respect, almost admiration, the briefest slip in an otherwise disciplined report.
Lucian's lips curved faintly. He inclined his head just slightly, as though to acknowledge the remark without claiming it.
The King, however, caught it at once. His sharp gaze flicked toward Sebathine, lingering. His fingers drummed once against the armrest, measuring, calculating. "Adapted swiftly," he repeated slowly, as though tasting the weight of the words.
Sebathine lowered his head, his composure steady again. "Yes, Your Majesty. It was commendable."
