"A necklace?"
"Yes." The duke answered, and then he turned to the window once more, peering from outside. The bright afternoon light made his silhouette darker, as Faustina's gaze fixated on his tall stature. On Faustina's hand was the necklace, from the pendant's back was a carved snowflake, few dents evident from it.
"To someone named Owen?"
"Owen Lopez." Duke Feuerlon says, his emerald eyes compelling and deeply lost in thought. "Bring it to him. And if he do not want it, you must force it to him, if necessary."
**
"Oh, Duke sir!" Says a woman, her red hair wet from the storm. Her lips were full and her cheeks were red, even amidst the heavy rain pouring outside the manor.
Through Adalia's dark-brown eyes, she saw how her husband's troubled face retracted back to her once the woman entered the manor. Her voice was so loud that even the duchess could hear it to her chambers—no, it was not because of that—
