Chapter 67
The evening light was already going darker when Federico pushed open the door to their chamber. He stepped inside, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. It was empty. His brows furrowed.
Before he could call for a servant, the door opened again, and Azalea walked in, a small but tired smile on her face. Her hair was slightly undone, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. She looked nothing like the composed queen he was used to seeing.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice carrying both curiosity and the faint edge of irritation. “You look… exhausted.”
Azalea set a small covered tray down on the table before answering. “I was in the kitchen,” she said. “Preparing something special.”
Federico blinked. “The kitchen?” His tone was flat, skeptical. “
