The study was quiet except for the steady sound of Derek's typing. He had been at his MacBook since mid-morning, working through a backlog of correspondence that had built up during the war council.
A soft knock at the door broke his concentration.
"Come in," he said, without looking up.
The door opened, and the scent reached him a half second before he registered the figure in his peripheral vision. Her scent was mixed with a floral and expensive perfume, the same thing she had worn for years. He looked up.
Ruby stood in the doorway in a midnight-blue trouser suit, her red hair swept into a style that had clearly taken time and effort. She was smiling, broad and warm, as though the past two weeks had been a pleasant holiday rather than a suspension from duty.
"Your Grace," she said.
"Ruby." He leaned back slightly in his chair. "How are you?"
