Kyle guided the Grand Duchess into his office and gestured toward the seat across from his desk.
Amanda walked with a practiced grace, but there was a weariness in her steps that didn't escape his notice.
Once seated, she pulled down the cloak he had wrapped around her earlier.
Her ruffled and torn clothes, dirt-smeared cheeks, and tangled hair were now fully visible under the office's lamplight.
Even Amanda couldn't hide the momentary flicker of discomfort.
She was a woman of high standing, used to commanding attention through elegance and dignity—not like this, not with her vulnerabilities laid bare.
Kyle saw it. The way her fingers twitched at the edge of the cloak, the way her eyes refused to meet his.
"Would you like to freshen up first? We can talk after."
He asked gently, his tone devoid of any judgment.
Amanda gave a quick shake of her head and straightened her back.
"No. We'll handle the important matters first. I didn't come all this way to stall."
