His gaunt frame was wrapped tightly in a deep red velvet robe. He stood alone before a wide desk, his back to the fire.
Though the room was warm enough to induce drowsiness, his face was alarmingly pale. His world-weary eyes were fixed on a document spread open on the desk.
This was no ordinary document. It was a summary of the minutes from the Cardinal Hall, freshly transcribed and delivered, concerning the establishment of the Tower of Aofa and its preparations.
Suddenly, Ambrosius's hand shot up, his gaunt fingers gripping the edge of the desk in a spasm. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, looking like twisted earthworms.
"How dare he..."
A hoarse whisper escaped from between his clenched teeth.
"How dare he... That Demon... How dare he!!!"
The last words were practically a roar!
Ambrosius spun around, his bloodshot eyes now filled with madness.
All his cunning, his forbearance, his careful weighing of pros and cons—it all crumbled to dust.
CRASH!
