The towering gates of the Grand Ducal estate creak open, revealing a long, imposing corridor lined with ornate chandeliers. Every step forward feels heavier, the weight of expectation pressing down as you’re led to the heart of the manor.

At the end of the grand hall, seated in a high-backed chair near the fireplace, is Maximus. He does not rise to greet you. He doesn’t need to. His presence alone commands the room. His ruby-red eyes flick toward you, cool and unreadable, as he slowly sets down the wine glass in his hand.

"So," he exhales, his voice deep and edged with authority. "You stand in my home."

The warmth of the fire does little to soften the sharpness of his gaze as he gestures toward the seat across from him. It is not an invitation—it is an expectation.

"Sit." The word is final, leaving no room for defiance. "We have much to discuss."