DAEVA'S POV
The moonlight filtered through the high, arched windows of the Duchess's Lenora's chamber, as I stood by the large mahogany desk, my gaze was fixed on the Duchess, who was seated behind it with an air of composed authority.
I noted that today she looked less tired than the days before as her regal bearing and elegantly adorned attire. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, were locked onto my own as she steepled her fingers, a gesture that signaled both contemplation and command.
"I heard you spend the night in the jail cell watching your mate sleep," she began, her voice a smooth blend of authority and calm that left no room for argument. The tone was measured, yet an edge to her words spoke of underlying tension. She leaned forward slightly, the light catching the delicate lace of her collar and the subtle glint of the emerald pendant resting against her chest.
