KAEL
The venue was drowning in polite laughter and the clinking of expensive glassware. The charity event was just as I expected—filled with people desperate to prove their generosity while secretly waiting for a moment to remind everyone of their wealth. I moved through the crowd with measured steps, acknowledging a few nods and murmured greetings.
They all knew who I was or at least my father made sure.
Some respected me for my time in the military. Others whispered behind their glasses about my return to my father's empire after leaving the army. Either way, no one dared approach me unless I allowed it. That suited me just fine.
"Kael Roman," a voice called out, breaking through the sea of conversation.
I turned, already knowing who it was before I laid eyes on him. General Simmons, retired. A man who had spent decades barking orders, now reduced to small talk at events like these.
"General." I inclined my head slightly.
