"A bold prediction, Lady Von Meier," Dietrich's voice rumbled low.
He leaned back against the plush chair, the usual fire in his eyes dimmed for once. Yet his gaze
was sharp, predatory, like a wolf tracking prey at full sprint, every muscle taut with focus.
Greta didn't blink as she laid out her thoughts before the emperor, and Dietrich Maximillian mirrored her intensity. The air between them grew heavy, unsettling Matthias, who sat caught in the middle. He let out a strained chuckle, trying to break the tension.
"You exaggerate, Lady Von Meier," Matthias said lightly. "No one in this palace would dare plot against the emperor. That'd be suicide, reckless beyond measure."
Greta had expected Matthias to back her up, to provoke Dietrich alongside her. Instead, his loyalty to the emperor kept him from playing her game. She lowered her gaze, conceding.
