It was already deep into the night when the heavy doors of the Grand Duke's private study opened, and the tall man with sharp eyes and a dark coat entered quietly, followed by a well-dressed assistant who was holding a stack of papers close to his chest, his steps nervous and his voice shaking slightly as he spoke.
"My lord, the operation failed," the assistant said in a low voice, his eyes not meeting the Grand Duke's as he placed the documents on the large oak desk in front of him, papers filled with sealed reports and red marks showing danger, loss, and silence from the agents who were sent out days ago.
The Grand Duke didn't speak at first, walking slowly behind his desk as he unfastened his cloak and sat down in the tall chair with golden trim, the flickering candlelight casting a long shadow across his face that made his tired expression seem even darker.
"Failed?" he said at last, making the assistant flinch just a little, but the man forced himself to nod and continue.
