01-24-2026, 10:28 PM
Carter stepped into the bar like a man walking into a room already half his. He was attired in a finely spun cashmere sweater in muted sable, impossibly soft, layered over an open-collared shirt of ivory linen, tailored by hand and pressed without a crease. The trousers, cut with casual precision, carried the relaxed drape of Loro Piana wool-silk blend: no break at the ankle, no excess at the waist. Not a stitch out of place. Around his wrist rested a rare Hermès Horlogerie timepiece, analog in design, but fitted with near-invisible smarttech that whispered to the hotel’s network the moment he passed through the threshold, signaling his arrival.
He paused just inside, letting his gaze travel without urgency. He had begun keeping an eye for Colette in recent days since learning she, too, had taken residence in this hotel. A curiosity, that. She was not the type to linger long in public spaces, and certainly not one to stay in shared quarters. Why she hadn’t yet secured a private residence was a question with no ready answer. But as long as she remained here, Carter did the same. It was a matter of convenience, yes, but also… opportunity.
No sign of her tonight. Instead, his eye landed on someone else. Olivier.
It had been some time, but blood recognized blood. The years had changed little. Olivier still had that same thoughtful cast to his posture, the way he held a glass as if weighing more than just its contents.
There were others, of course. Adrian, the owner of the hotel and quick to make introductions, as he had on Carter’s first evening here. Jessika, too, lingered near the bar. Her entrance into the Sphere still fresh in memory, her mask from the masquerade was more a symbol than disguise.
Carter crossed the room without rush, folding himself into the circle of conversation as though he had been expected all along. A polite nod here, a brief smile there. Every gesture measured, each word weighed before it passed his lips.
He extended a hand toward Olivier, his smile easy, touched with irony.
“Cousin,” he said, with the warmth of someone who hadn’t planned to see family but wasn’t altogether displeased by it. “Good to see you. My mother mentioned you were here.” He offered the shrug of a man who accepted such things as inevitable. “You know how it goes with the family.”
He paused just inside, letting his gaze travel without urgency. He had begun keeping an eye for Colette in recent days since learning she, too, had taken residence in this hotel. A curiosity, that. She was not the type to linger long in public spaces, and certainly not one to stay in shared quarters. Why she hadn’t yet secured a private residence was a question with no ready answer. But as long as she remained here, Carter did the same. It was a matter of convenience, yes, but also… opportunity.
No sign of her tonight. Instead, his eye landed on someone else. Olivier.
It had been some time, but blood recognized blood. The years had changed little. Olivier still had that same thoughtful cast to his posture, the way he held a glass as if weighing more than just its contents.
There were others, of course. Adrian, the owner of the hotel and quick to make introductions, as he had on Carter’s first evening here. Jessika, too, lingered near the bar. Her entrance into the Sphere still fresh in memory, her mask from the masquerade was more a symbol than disguise.
Carter crossed the room without rush, folding himself into the circle of conversation as though he had been expected all along. A polite nod here, a brief smile there. Every gesture measured, each word weighed before it passed his lips.
He extended a hand toward Olivier, his smile easy, touched with irony.
“Cousin,” he said, with the warmth of someone who hadn’t planned to see family but wasn’t altogether displeased by it. “Good to see you. My mother mentioned you were here.” He offered the shrug of a man who accepted such things as inevitable. “You know how it goes with the family.”