Chapter 199: Greed
The meeting with my retainers has just concluded, and though I’ve managed to calm their nerves, the weight of finding a solution still presses heavily on my shoulders.
I barely take a step when a figure materializes before me, silent as a shadow. I halt instinctively, though my expression remains composed, even if my heart briefly races from the surprise.
It’s her—Leona, one of Thorne’s infamous subordinates. She’s unnervingly quiet, as though she doesn’t breathe or exist in the same realm as the rest of us. The way she moves, it’s no wonder she’s an assassin. Even my own personal assas- I mean knights—trained rigorously for stealth—could learn a thing or two from her. I make a mental note to suggest as much to Thorne later.
"He requests your presence," she says curtly, her voice clipped and efficient. There’s no further explanation, no unnecessary pleasantries.
Before I can respond, she turns on her heel and begins walking away. Her silent, purposeful strides leave no room for questions, and I follow, curiosity piqued. Whatever this summons is about, it must be important if it warrants Leona’s personal delivery.
She leads me out of the main castle building, down the winding path toward the secluded cabin near the edge of the estate grounds. The crisp air bites slightly, but it’s nothing compared to the chill of anticipation settling in my chest.
As we approach, I spot two familiar figures stationed outside. Roman—one of Thorne’s more outspoken subordinates—is leaning casually against the cabin wall, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a lazy vigilance. Beside him stands Raul, the massive, bald enforcer whose mere presence commands attention.
Both men straighten when they see me approach, their demeanors shifting into one of quiet respect. Roman offers a slight nod, while Raul simply steps aside, allowing Leona and me to pass.
I step into the room, my eyes immediately landing on Thorne, who is casually leaning against the wall, exuding his usual air of indifference. But it isn’t him that freezes me in place. No, my attention is captured entirely by the man seated on the small, worn bed, fidgeting like a cornered animal.