The Scarf?
"I feel a… a slight chill, my lord." She said.
The Duke glanced at Bartwick. The single glance was enough to dismiss the steward.
"Are you ill, my dear?"
She looked at the ground before her.
"Yes, my lord."
"Father! Did you notice the new decor in the east wing?" Friedrich called out.
The Duke's piercing gaze shifted from her to the man approaching behind her.
She turned as well.
But to her surprise, Friedrich had his arm slung over Theodore's shoulders as they walked together.
"New decor? What was wrong with the old one? The fire didn't destroy it, I am certain of that at the very least."
Friedrich grinned. "Just see it for yourself, father. I was surprised, but then again, Theo is good at everything." Then Friedrich ruffled his hair playfully, earning a glare and scowl from Theodore.
"I don't know why you weren't born as the heir." Friedrich muttered.
Theodore removed the arm slung over his shoulders and moved to stand a hand's length away from his brother.
