Chapter 25: The World Is Filled with Filths
The heavy iron gates creaked open with a low groan.
A gust of warm morning air rolled through the grand hall, brushing past the lined-up servants like a silent warning.
Every maid, butler, and guard present lowered their heads.
Thud! Thud!
Boots tapped against the marble floor.
A young man, who seemed to be in his early twenties strode into the manor with casual arrogance of a spoiled noble brat.
Hands folded behind his back like he owned the place.
His raven-black hair was slicked neatly to the side, framing a pale, unblemished face.
High cheekbones. Cold, sea-gray eyes that scanned the hall with practiced boredom.
He wore a sharp indigo tunic threaded with gold, his family crest discreetly embroidered over the heart.
The silk shimmered slightly as he walked.