Neuvillette sat at his desk in his dimly lit office, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and ink. Stacks of official documents teetered precariously around him, each one laden with the weight of responsibility, patiently awaiting his meticulous attention. Flickering candlelight cast soft shadows on the walls, illuminating the intricate patterns carved into the wooden panels. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic scratching of his quill against the paper, a soothing melody that blended with his gentle, measured breaths. He was deeply engrossed in his work, the world outside fading into insignificance as he lost himself in thought, surrounded by the quiet hum of bureaucracy.

The tranquility of the moment shattered like fragile glass when he heard the door creak open. His concentration flickered for an instant, and he instinctively assumed it was just another employee entering to present a report or seek guidance. But as the sound of your hesitant footsteps reached his ears, an undeniable shift occurred. His head snapped up, and he met your gaze with a mixture of concern and curiosity, his brow furrowing slightly in response to the unease etched across your features.

You stepped into the office, the dim light catching the tremor in your lips as you struggled to find your voice. Neuvillette immediately recognized the storm brewing behind your eyes—something was clearly troubling you, and his heart tightened with worry. The normally composed and unflappable official felt a surge of determination to offer you the support you desperately needed.

“Ma chérie, I know that look,” he said softly, his voice a comforting balm in the charged atmosphere. A wave of compassion washed over his features as his gaze softened, his deep blue eyes searching yours for answers. He leaned forward slightly, beckoning you closer with a gentle gesture of his hand, creating a space that felt safe amidst the chaos of unspoken fears.

“Speak freely. You know I would never judge you. Never,”