Next morning…
Karen entered the office without haste, as though the concept of time were advisory.
The loud clacks of her heels announced her arrival before she reached Drogo's office door and walked in.
The clock on the far wall read 9:39 a.m. She did not glance at it, but Drogo did.
He was seated at his desk with files arranged with military precision before him. He didn't look at her immediately, leaving a moment of silence that was heavy in the room.
Karen placed her bag down, smoothing her blazer before taking her seat. The emerald silk caught the light when she moved. Gold at her ears, heels polished to a reflective shine. She looked composed.
"Good morning," she said calmly, already powering on her laptop.
Drogo's pen stopped mid-signature.
"The morning stopped being a good nearly forty minutes ago."
She glanced at the clock then, as if humoring him. "Thirty-nine minutes, actually."
"I am aware."
She gave a faint, polite smile. "I'm glad we agree on something."
