In the heart of the palace, five people stood scattered across the room, a few of them kneeling on the floor, soaked in blood. Rory and Warren stood close to the only seated person in the chamber.
The kneeling men looked terrified, unable to look at the red-haired man in the chair, whose expression remained entirely indifferent.
"My lord, the minister made me do it! Ple-please forgive me, Your Majesty," one of the men pleaded. But in the snap of a second, his head rolled away from his body.
Beads of sweat broke out on the foreheads of the others standing there as they realized how little interest the king had in granting mercy.
Rory stood by with a sly smirk playing on his lips, while Warren beside him maintained a serious expression, digesting the information they had just extracted from the now-dead man.
The red-haired king stood up and began to walk away, not bothering to utter a single word about what had just transpired. The remaining ministers stood there, paralyzed with dread, able to do nothing but bow.
Both the prince and Warren followed the king, offering respectful bows of their own alongside the ministers.
As the three of them moved down the hall with the king leading the way, Rory handed him a handkerchief to clean the sword, which was visibly smeared with blood.
"Liam, what do we do about the minister?" Rory asked. He saw no point in waiting when they could simply arrest the man immediately.
Warren nodded in agreement with the prince, adding, "He has been using unfair means for a long time, and now he has taken it to an extreme. The people will begin to question the throne if this isn't handled soon."
Liam, who had remained quiet throughout the conversation, finally spoke. "It isn't just the minister. He isn't clever enough to pull off something like this on his own."
His footsteps halted near the palace wing. He rested one hand on the balustrade while the other held a cigar. He stared down at the black roses planted in the right section of the garden, lingering on them longer than necessary before Rory and Warren excused themselves.
"Did he find out something?" Warren asked as they continued walking. He didn't push the matter further when Rory offered no reply.
In the city of Begies, a freckle-nosed woman walked alongside two men. She was dressed in a simple gown that fell just below her knees, her legs covered in stockings to maintain the modesty expected by society. A brown scarf was wrapped around her head as though shielding her from the sun. One of the men had his head covered for the same reason, while the other—a tall, silver-haired man—walked beside them in a fine white shirt, beige trousers, and an overcoat draped over his shoulders.
He moved with an innate grace, keeping one hand casually in his pocket. The three of them approached a massive, whitewashed building with a sign that read, "Land Revenue Office."
A high-ranking average vampire noticed the three humans walking toward the registration department. He was particularly surprised to see a lady among them; she carried a bag that likely contained legal documents.
"Name, sir?" the registrar asked, addressing the silver-haired man.
The stranger's striking silver hair made the registrar wonder if he might actually be a pureblood vampire, as they were known to occasionally hide their true nature just for their own amusement.