The scent of aromatic tea filled the study as the elderly servant poured it. Chloe lifted the cup to her lips, taking a measured sip before lowering it gracefully.
“Indeed, this is a splendid variety, worthy of your pride.”
“I am glad it pleases you, Your Highness.” Damien’s expression remained neutral, as though the compliment was nothing more than expected.
Chloe’s fingers curled slightly around the armrest. “Before coming here, I reviewed the tax records. Is there a reason the recent teas from the Thisse estate have not been of the same standard?”
“I apologize for the disappointment. We’ve had three consecutive years of poor harvests, you see.”
“Do you think I haven’t accounted for climate conditions?” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “You are deceiving me.”
Damien neither confirmed nor denied the accusation, which only made her irritation flare.
“Lord Thisse, answer Her Highness’s question,” Gilles urged.
