The main banquet course arrived in a low hum of clinking silver and hushed chatter, but the mood at the tables surrounding the center of the hall remained noticeably subdued. Word of Duke Timber and Director Kaelen's abrupt, pale-faced retreat from the balcony had already rippled through the immediate seating tiers, turning Table Nine into an island of quiet scrutiny.
Deep in the shadows of the elevated VIP lounge, Troy Husks cornered Timber and Kaelen near a velvet-draped pillar. The Minister of Commerce rubbed his temples, a sharp line of irritation tightening his jaw as he looked down at the main floor.
"What the hell were you two thinking, approaching him like that?" Husks hissed, keeping his voice beneath the swell of the string quartet. "On the floor? Tonight? It wasn't the time to force a public display."
