"You want the Duchy's stamp?" Grace asked, her voice calm but sharp. For a moment, Arthur wondered if he had gone too far.
The stamp wasn't just a symbol—it carried real power. If someone sent a letter to the central ministry with the Duke's seal, warning of an attack on the capital, they would act immediately, no questions asked.
That was the kind of authority Arthur was asking for. And suddenly, he wasn't sure he had the right to.
He remembered her words from before, the way she spoke that gave him a sliver of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, Grace didn't hate him.
"Umm... If it's—"
"Wait here," she said suddenly, cutting him off before walking out of the room.
Arthur froze, staring at the door long after she'd left.
Where… was she going?
'I hope she's not bringing her father...' he thought with a nervous gulp. That would be more dangerous than going to the capital itself.
