The Branch Royals' Ambition
The son of the prime minister was waiting on the second floor of another inn inside of Fantom City.
Outside the window, the night was cold and restless.
Rain had fallen earlier in the evening, leaving the streets below damp and glistening beneath the lantern light. The distant sounds of drunk adventurers, passing merchants, and armored guards echoed faintly through the city streets, but inside the private room, silence ruled like a blade pressed against the throat.
Lucien Ashdrake sat beside the window with one hand supporting his chin.
His expression remained calm.
Too calm.
But beneath that composed face, his thoughts were moving rapidly.
It had been six days now since he ordered his men to go and kill Videl, and there was still no news regarding the situation.
The last report he received had come four days ago.
At that time, his subordinates claimed that Videl was finally cornered near the forest of north of Fantom City.
After that—
Nothing.
