Apparently, Athan and Mystique sat on the spacious couch, facing each other while Arnold was at his desk and busied himself with the paperwork he had to do for the day.
From the stifling silence, the Grand Duke sighed.
"So," Arnold trailed off his voice; the chair cracked as he pulled away and stood near the curtain. "Perhaps it's true that Lady Marianne was here; why have I not known it all along?"
His stern gaze landed on Mystique. The stoic face she bore never changed as she also looked at him.
[I thought it would be cumbersome as you have other matters to deal with; moreover, I started this; definitely, I'd finish where this all began.]
He simply watched the interaction of father and daughter.
Arnold, meanwhile, turned around and glanced at her daughter—deep lines furrowed on his forehead with concerns he had with her.
"Mysti, how do you plan to resolve this. We're not to welcome his presence and then off his head with the Emperor's insignia in him, is it?"
