The quartet continued playing.
Nothing in the ballroom suggested disruption. Waitstaff moved between the tables with quiet efficiency, silver trays balanced at shoulder height as glasses were replaced and napkins adjusted without interrupting conversation. Guests spoke in the same moderated tones that had filled the room since the banquet began, their voices softened by the scale of the space.
On the surface, nothing had changed.
The Rochefort Anniversary Banquet continued exactly as it had moments earlier.
Angelika walked away from the long table.
Her posture remained upright. Her expression held the same polite composure she had worn since entering the ballroom. Anyone observing from a distance might have assumed the exchange between her and Arianne had been nothing more than a brief conversation between acquaintances—something routine, something forgettable.
