[Young Lord:] [Bring them in to see me… And be polite.]
A single bead of sweat formed at the edge of his brow. Not from fear. But from realization.
'Young Lord… knows them?'
'And he's telling me to be polite…?'
His thoughts moved quickly. Sharp. Layered. Controlled.
'Who are they…?'
'What kind of background do they have…?'
Because that message, It wasn't casual. It wasn't routine. It wasn't even a request. It was a warning.
And Sir Bruno understood warnings.
By the time he looked up again, Everything had settled. His breathing. His posture.
His expression.
But his demeanor had changed. It was still professional and composed. But no, he was extra careful.
Measured in a different way. He stopped walking.
Turned fully toward them.
And bowed slightly.
Deeper than before. More respectful.
Not excessive. But unmistakable.
"Apologies for the inconvenience, Young Sir… Young Ma'am."
His tone lowered just a fraction.
The confidence remained.
But the edges had softened.
