"Stay there, Brother," Aurelian commanded, his voice dropping to a low, intimate hum. "I want to have one last private word with our scholar. I'm sure you don't mind this one last conversation, right? You've always been so patient."
Alaric didn't move, but he let out a low, guttural growl that vibrated in his chest, his boots steady on the floor as he fought the urge to lung through the line of guards. He just wanted to reach out and rip Julian away from that golden shadow, but he saw Julian's hand move.
Julian's trembling fingers reached for the silk ties of the porcelain mask. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled it away, letting it hang from his fingertips.
He had worn it just now to hide the grief he was passing through while putting on a performance for the guards because he was not confident he could mask all of that with a smile.
Though now he had calmed down a little bit, and could show his face without slipping up.
