Crown Prince Albert Van Skargardia.
And beside him, Julian Van Gravenberg, heir to Duke Markus and Astrid's elder brother.
They stood together as if drawn from the same stain.
Albert carried himself with all the authority given to him as Crown Prince. The gold and dark blue of his formal attire marked him at a glance, but it was the expression on his face that made him stand out more than any embroidery could: the faint, superior smile was as present as ever.
Julian at his side looked no better.
If anything, there was something more openly rotten in him for Ulrich, perhaps because he knew him already, knew the shape of his arrogance, knew what kind of man stood beneath that noble bearing.
Behind Ulrich, the sisters went still.
Hermione's satisfaction vanished at once. Esther's face lost what little color it still held. Airam's eyes narrowed into something darker than before, the cold in them deepening until it looked almost like hatred given shape.
And Astrid.
