The Emperor stepped forward. Without a word, he grabbed Olivia's arm and pulled her firmly behind him, using his weight to shove Roland back.
"Even if she is your daughter, Duke," the Emperor said, his voice dropping into a flat, dangerous quiet. "You do not treat her like this. She is the Duchess of Locron."
Roland staggered back a half-step. His posture stiffened, and he immediately dropped his head into a low, rigid bow. "Your Majesty. Forgive me, I did not notice you enter."
"And that gives you the right to lay hands on her?" the Emperor cut him off, standing like a wall between them. "Apologize to her. Now."
Roland kept his head down, but his eyes shifted upward, locking onto Olivia where she stood under the Emperor's protection. The silence stretched in the office, tight and thin.
"You are right, Sire," Roland said, straightening up with a tight, bloodless smile. "I lost my temper for a moment. You know how fathers can be."
