A Mistress Consumed by Desire (3)

A pair of armored knights stood on either side of the doors, their swords sheathed. They nodded respectfully as Sir Daelan approached, and one of them reached for the iron handle to open the doors for him.

The wooden doors to the spacious guest room opened slowly with a gentle push, making a faint sound that echoed in the silence.

The butler gestured for Sir Daelan to enter, and as he stepped inside, his eyes immediately fell upon Lady Clarissa. 

She was seated on a couch, facing away from him, her long hair falling over her shoulders. Her posture was slumped, as if she was burdened by the troubles of the world.

Sir Daelan walked across the spacious room, his leather boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor. Behind him, he felt the heavy oak door close with a click, sealing them in the room with a cocoon of privacy.

"Greetings, Esteemed Lady Clarissa," he greeted her with a respectful bow. "May Silvest's blessings be with you."