BRAHAM
Inside a lavishly appointed carriage, Amon sat across from the butler who had been sent to escort him. The plush, velvet seats and ornate carvings on the carriage walls indicated wealth and power. Amon kept his face composed, giving nothing away, though he felt a growing sense of unease. The butler exuded a quiet confidence that seemed out of place for someone in his position.
As the carriage rumbled along, the butler broke the silence. "Young lord, if I may, can you indulge my curiosity?" His tone was polite, yet there was an edge to it that Amon couldn't quite place.
Amon nodded, masking his wariness. "Of course. What is it?"
"Your attire, young lord," the butler began, his eyes flickering over Amon's clothes with a hint of bemusement. "May I ask why you chose such unique tastes?" The question was delivered smoothly, but there was an underlying implication that Amon couldn't ignore.