Every head bowed low as Anthony Ashbourne entered, the second most powerful man in the Alpha Empire, his imposing figure flanked by the legendary Commander Bogdan "the Beast" Gromov.
Together, they moved toward the main tent like a storm front rolling across a calm field.
At the sight of Gromov's steely eyes, sharp as a predator's even beneath the weight of age, Madam Beckett's instincts roared to life. She understood immediately.
"Guards," she commanded briskly, her voice cutting through the hushed crowd, "escort Young Master Morgan and Signorina Rosaline to the refreshment tent."
The order came sudden and sharp, drawing surprised glances, but no one dared challenge the matriarch's word.
Mervyn felt the tension shift like ice beneath thin glass. He flicked an uncertain look at Alfie, who mirrored his confusion.
"Never leave Morgan's side," Mervyn whispered hoarsely, a tremor of dread in his tone. Alfie bowed low, eyes solemn, before vanishing after the children.
