“No interruptions. None,” she commanded.
Moments later, Peter entered.
He was dressed in a muted gray cloak, but his eyes gleamed as always with calculation — sharp and cold beneath his warm smile. He bowed with all the charm of a seasoned politician.
“My queen,” he said with a slight purr, “I dare say you are even more radiant with each hour passing.”
Lana arched a brow but allowed the faintest blush to touch her cheeks. “Flattery is not what you summoned me for, Peter. Tea?” she offered coolly, gesturing for him to sit.
Peter accepted, watching her pour the steaming liquid with elegant efficiency. As she passed him the cup, she locked eyes with him.
“Now. Speak plainly. What is this sudden urgency?”
Peter took a sip before setting the cup down gently.
“I’m concerned,” he said, hi
