Luna, you move through the lower edges of the grand reception hall with practiced ease, your livery crisp, your bearing attentive but unremarkable — just another servant in the flow of a noble event. At first, the guard seemed simply vigilant, like any competent sentry at an event of this caliber should be. But as you continue to orbit, placing yourself near pillars and passing through clusters of low-ranked guests, you track the pattern.
He’s not watching the room.
He’s watching him.
Briar.
The guard is an older human, trim, with a silver-threaded beard and a lightly worn gambeson under his surcoat. He bears no insignia beyond that of the house, but his posture — slightly more relaxed than a parade-stance soldier, slightly more tense than a butler — marks him as one of Dannemar’s trusted interior men, not just a posted doorwatcher.
His movements are smart: slow, indirect, non-obvious. He never walks toward Briar, only near him, timing his steps with the rhythm of the event, weaving into side spaces where he can see but not be seen.
Most tellingly, at least to you: he's not looking at anyone else.
There’s no evidence he saw Raoul directly. But he definitely saw Briar react to something. And that was enough to put him on high alert.
So far, he hasn’t raised alarm. Which means one of two things:
1. He thinks it’s nothing — but he’ll be ready if it turns into something,
2. Or… he’s seen this kind of game before so he’s just waiting for an excuse to act.