Catherine blinked, as though surfacing from somewhere far too deep, her focus snapping back to the table, to the room, to the fact that her brothers were still very much present. A faint warmth crept up her neck, subtle but unmistakable, as she straightened slightly, her composure returning piece by careful piece.
Maximilian, on the other hand, did not startle. He merely shifted his gaze away from her with unhurried ease, as though the interruption had been expected all along, though the faint curve of his lips suggested he hadn't minded the moment lasting just a little longer.
The spell had broken.
But not entirely.
Because even as Catherine reached for her glass, pretending a calm she didn't quite feel, she was acutely aware of him, of the way his presence lingered beside her, steady and unshaken.
And William, watching it all, exhaled quietly through his nose, the smirk never quite leaving his face.
Yes.
This was going to be interesting.
