"Sir, please show some respect, this is the Flame Temple." Princess Magdalene forcefully withdrew her hand, frowning as she looked at the middle-aged man. His face was pale, with dark circles under his eyes hinting at a purplish-black hue, giving an impression of excess in wine and women. He wore exquisitely woven clothing, clearly of noble origin, but his steps were unsteady, his gaze wandering, and he hadn't even buttoned his collar, exposing his pallid, skeletal clavicle and ribs, giving the first impression of a debauched rake oblivious to decency in the midst of the nightlife.
When Brand walked out from the quiet room, this was exactly what he saw—
