"What did you say?"
Cherion's voice dropped.
The easy amusement vanished from his face so fast it was almost unsettling. For the first time all afternoon, his usual I-don't-care-enough-for-this attitude cracked. He simply stared across the white-clothed table at the pale, picture-perfect Omega.
Philia caught it immediately. A flash of profound satisfaction flickered deep within his eyes, though he instantly masked it with an expression of deep, tragic sympathy. He leaned forward, tilting his head as if the very words he was speaking were breaking his own heart.
"Oh... so the Duke really didn't tell you anything?" Philia murmured, his voice a soft, trembling whisper that perfectly carried to the surrounding noblemen and ladies. He let out a delicate, mournful sigh. "I suppose it makes sense. It is an delicate diplomatic arrangement currently being discussed. It must be so incredibly difficult for you to hear it like this."
