Reinhardt Windsor had just finished speaking with the aide sent by the emperor and was pondering how the Southern Trade Route tax adjustment might affect the family's businesses when a tall, imposing figure radiating a fierce aura stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
Reinhardt looked up and met a pair of light brown eyes burning with restrained fury. Victor Windsor stood before him, his face so dark it seemed ready to drip with water. His thin lips were pressed tight, and his fists clenched, making it clear he was on the verge of exploding. Even at a proper social distance, Reinhardt could feel the sharp aura of a High Knight radiating from Victor, along with his undisguised hostility.
"Young Master Windsor." Victor's voice was low and hoarse, every word seeming to grind out between his teeth, cold as ice. "Care to talk?"
Reinhardt felt a faint stir of unease, but he maintained the composure and calm befitting the Windsor heir. He gave a slight nod, wearing an impeccable, faintly distant smile. "Young Master Victor, go ahead." He gestured toward a relatively secluded entrance to a balcony nearby.
They walked one after the other onto the curved balcony connected to the main hall. The evening breeze swept over them, easing the stuffiness inside, but bringing an even deeper chill. Below the balcony, the garden was brightly lit, and the guests' laughter and conversation drifted faintly up, only heightening the tension in this spot.
As soon as they stopped, Victor spun around. His sharp eyes fixed on Reinhardt like a hawk's, and he no longer bothered to hide his surging fury. "Reinhardt Windsor! Tell me, what exactly does your family mean by this?!"
Reinhardt furrowed his brow slightly, his tone still even. "Young Master Victor, I don't understand what you