As Nathaniel turned slightly to address one of the footmen, something small and glittering caught the light from the hallway's chandelier, hanging just barely visible from the edge of his vest pocket. A young footman standing nearby noticed it first, his eyes widening in confusion as he leaned forward slightly for a better look.
"Young master," he said hesitantly, his voice low but audible enough to draw immediate attention from those standing closest to him.
Nathaniel turned toward him, his expression still carrying the same cold authority he had projected throughout the entire confrontation. "What is it?" he asked impatiently, clearly annoyed by the interruption.
The footman's eyes remained fixed on Nathaniel's vest pocket, his expression shifting rapidly from confusion into unmistakable alarm. "...your pocket?" he finally managed, gesturing subtly toward the glittering object barely visible against the dark grey fabric.
Nathaniel's confident expression faltered instantly, his eyes widening as he glanced down toward his own vest, immediately registering what the footman had noticed. A soft, rapid heartbeat seemed to fill the sudden silence gripping the hallway, every eye now turning toward the young master's exposed pocket.
Margarethe lowered her phone slowly, her earlier fury replaced by dawning, horrified confusion as she followed the footman's gaze toward her nephew's vest pocket. Edmund rose slowly from where he knelt beside Hannah, his expression hardening with quiet, unmistakable realization.
Nathaniel's hand moved quickly, instinctively, covering the exposed pocket in a desperate attempt to conceal whatever lay hidden inside it, though the damage had already been done. Every person standing in that hallway had seen enough to understand exactly what was glittering against the grey fabric of his vest.