I Am Afraid I Can't
The next morning,
Asher approached Cecilia's suite, the opulence of the room contrasting sharply with the tension that clung to the air.
The guards stationed outside, clad in sharp, formal attire, eyed him with a blend of recognition and professionalism as he approached.
He knocked on the heavy wooden door, its intricate carvings hinting at the luxury within. A muffled acknowledgment came from inside, and the door swung open.
Cecilia stood at the entrance, her elegant gown rustling softly. Her face was a careful mask of composure, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of worry.
"Advisor Ash," she greeted, her voice polite but edged with tension, "Please, come in."
Asher stepped inside, his gaze immediately drawn to the suite's lavish decor.
The room was adorned with rich fabrics and luxurious furnishings, the large windows framed by heavy drapes that kept the room dim.