Tillian's study enveloped itself in a serene hush, undisturbed by the faintest whisper of noise. The Duke assumed a solemn stance beside his desk, his presence commanding reverence, while Yuraon observed Bella's careful movements as she poured steaming tea into a porcelain cup.
From time to time, the maid cast furtive glances toward the youthful King, not so much to admire his chiseled physique as to appraise his audacious demeanor. With each glance, she pondered silently, her thoughts veiled behind the facade of her menial tasks. Was such daring attire truly necessary, she mused, or merely an indulgence of royal antics?
Upon meticulously arranging the tea and accompanying snacks upon the polished surface of the small wooden table adjacent to the supple leather couch, Bella, with a polite excuse, withdrew from the room, granting the two men a moment of solitude at last.
