Cecil turned his head, looked at Frederik, and smiled.
It was not a large smile. Cecil, like his father, had never needed much movement to alter the atmosphere around him. But approval touched his face plainly enough to be seen from across the room, and that, more than Frederik's intervention, seemed to finish the matter.
Because Frederik - who had remained composed through the entire exchange with the unnerving self-command of a child far too used to reading a room - went utterly still for half a breath at that smile.
The noble boy noticed it too late.
He bowed, this time properly, murmured something that looked suspiciously like an apology, and retreated with all the dignity available to someone who had just been corrected by another child.
Aylin made a small, satisfied sound. "He lost."
"Yes," Rafael said.
Gabriel's glass touched the arm of his chair with a soft click as he set it down. "Not badly enough for a lesson to become memorable to his parents. But enough."
