For a brief moment, the dining hall fell into an uneasy calm—one of those pauses that followed laughter when everyone was quietly registering what had just been said… and what it revealed.
Ashcroft held his expression a fraction too long.
Then—
“Ehem.”
The sound was soft and controlled, cutting neatly through the room.
He straightened at once, rolling his shoulders back and tugging lightly at his coat sleeve, as though brushing off invisible dust—an unconscious reset. Whatever edge had slipped into his voice moments ago vanished behind practiced composure.
“Oh, come on, Uncle Dom,” Ashcroft said lightly, lips curving into a faint, dismissive smile. “Let’s not dramatize things.” He waved a hand, tone casual. “I’m simply pointing out there’s no reason for anyone to get overconfident.”
