Chapter 13: Miss Your Wife Yet?
Count Constantine paced incessantly in his dark, silent study, where ominous shadows played on the walls, stirred by the warm orange light of a lone candle flickering in the wind created by his movements.
Furrowed eyebrows and a tense posture revealed the depths of his unease, to the point where even breathing seemed to inflict pain. His hands remained hidden behind his back, the right palm clutching a crumpled letter with the royal seal pressed below its contents.
His nervous and frantic brain found itself engulfed in a relentless storm of emotions, prompting sighs and groans each time he paused to examine even a single sentiment for a fleeting second.
With another loud, neurotic groan, the man finally stopped and leaned against the desk, thinking,
’Where the hell did that bitch disappear to? That mercenary promised that the bandits he hired would definitely do the job properly but instead, they all just vanished! And now the King demands an explanation! That damned woman, I hope she is dead and is rotting in hell!’
His angry venting ceased abruptly, disrupted by a brief, barely audible knock on the door, and the person behind it identified themselves as the Head Butler of the house.
"What is it? Come in!"
The tall, thin man with a carefully mended short white beard, neatly styled white hair, and small golden-framed glasses entered the study promptly, holding a large, old wooden box in front of his chest.
"I apologize for intruding, My Lord, but this box was left in front of the entrance not so long ago. Although nobody saw the person who left it, the writing on the box suggests that it was addressed to you."
"Oh... Put it on the floor and leave."
"Yes, My Lord."