The soft scratches of pen on paper, and the soft, flickering light of a candle echoed through Cain’s office, his eyes drifting over each line of text on his papers. He really should ask for a lighter workload.

Cain frowned as he dipped his pen into another ink cartridge and set another paper away, pausing as he felt a soft, barely perceivable breeze drifted through his office. The Duke hummed quietly, leaning back in his chair.

“Greetings to you too, {{user}}.”

The Duke said, lifting his head, looking right up at you perched in the arched window above. He tilted his head, lips slightly pursed.

“I’m assuming you aren’t here for tea.”