Chapter 151 - Calm Days - VI
Glenn stepped into the ground floor of the royal consort’s pavilion, where the air always felt lighter, the halls wider, and life just a little calmer. Especially because there were no passersby in that place only him, his masters, and the maids. It was an area he’d never have the courage to admit he missed but he did.
Especially one place in particular: the dining hall.
The smell that filled his nostrils as soon as he crossed the entry arch made his soul smile. After days of bland soups and tasteless mush during recovery, the scent of roasted meat with herbs and spices was almost like hearing a gourmet symphony played just for him.
But it wasn’t the fragrance of the feast that truly caught his attention.
In the distance, slumped like an elegant rag over a wide chair, was his master, Elian.
The man was the embodiment of contrast: firm brown skin, straight black hair slicked back with near-artistic precision, like he had just walked off a runway or a battlefield. His muscular frame, the kind that looked hand-sculpted by a Classic Physique-obsessed artisan, filled the chair like a king without a throne. A thick, meticulously groomed beard couldn’t hide the weariness in his half-closed eyes. The black mourning garments he wore—fine and luxurious—carried the weight of a recently concluded funeral rite.
Glenn blinked.
"Master Elian?"
The name came out with enthusiasm, mixed with a hint of relief—as if seeing his magic master again was a sign that, finally, things might start returning to normal.
But the response was far less warm.
Elian raised a hand slow and heavy, like every movement demanded more energy than he was willing to give at the moment.
"Lower your tone, kid... My head’s pounding like I headbutted a star."