"And the task…" Elara said at last, her tone calm yet almost teasing, "…is to figure out why I had him host you for four days."
'That's it?' Florian thought, the words echoing in his head long after they parted ways.
Now, walking through the quiet marble corridors of the Diamond Palace, the weight of that vague instruction pressed on his mind.
His footsteps echoed faintly, a steady rhythm against the stillness of the hall.
It sounded simple.
Too simple.
But Anastasia—the former queen—had failed this same task once. Florian didn't know how, but it was enough to tell him there was more beneath the surface.
There was always a catch.
'Could it be about her brother?' he wondered, his brows knitting slightly as he walked. 'The reason she inherited the dukedom instead of him? Maybe something about why she's called "Duke" instead of Duchess?'
It was possible. Everything about Elara screamed deliberation—every word, every smile. Nothing she said was ever without intent.
