Eilika frowned as she took in August's state. His robe hung open, baring his chest, but she didn't let her gaze flicker away.
"Prince August, dress yourself properly," Maurice demanded, taking a step forward.
August sneered, his eyes flashing with disdain. "And now, Damian's dog dares to lecture me on manners?"
"That is enough," Eilika interjected, keeping her tone polite. "He is the Duke's closest friend. Show some respect."
August descended the final step and stopped in front of her, letting out a mocking chuckle. "Why are you here? And tell me, how did you track me down to this hole?"
"Desperation makes the path clear," Eilika replied in a decisive tone.
August circled her, his eyes roaming over her form with predatory interest before lingering on the scar on her cheek, the one his confidant had warned him about. "What possible crisis could Damian have that he sends his wife to grovel at my feet?"
