306. DINNER WITH THE DUKE
KATHERINE
Night had already fallen. I was drenched in water, covered in the dust from the road, and utterly exhausted—more mentally than physically.
I stepped into a small sitting room, adorned with lavish furniture and a tea service table.
The décor was exquisite: paintings, heavy drapes, finely crafted hardwood furniture—even the ceiling had intricate detailing.
Everything was beautiful, but if you looked closely, certain details stood out—the cobwebs half-hidden in the corners, the dust poor