Benjamin returned to the flower bed and resumed his place at Augusta's side.
His aura had completely withdrawn. The crowd around them began flowing again, and the clinking of glasses and cheerful chatter once more filled the banquet hall, as though those few frozen seconds had never happened.
Bert Vera Augusta gave him a thorough once-over.
Her gaze traveled from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes, sweeping back and forth several times. Then she pressed her lips together. A hairline crack appeared in her usual cool expression, revealing a smile so fleeting it was nearly gone the instant it appeared.
"Not bad," she said.
Perhaps feeling that her words could be misunderstood, she quickly added, "Even if you're strong, I won't admit defeat!"
"Of course."
Benjamin smiled as well.
"But you'd better work hard. I won't go easy on you."
Augusta gave a soft snort, turned away, and took a small sip from her glass of juice.
Her movements remained graceful as she drank, but the high ponytail behind her head swayed ever so slightly from side to side.
Though Benjamin had known her for several thousand years, he truly did not know her very well.
Still, there was at least one thing Benjamin could be certain of. Augusta might have said she would not admit defeat, but that "Not bad" just now was probably the most straightforward praise she could offer.
Benjamin did not continue teasing her. Instead, he turned his gaze back toward the banquet hall.
The three outside helpers that the opposing branch had spent a fortune inviting had been forced back the moment they faced him, even returning their payment untouched. There was no longer much suspense in the struggle for power that followed.
The patriarch's branch had already surpassed the