The servant's quarters were the part of the castle the nobility used to separate the upper and lower classes. In stark contrast to the main areas with their exquisite sculptures and garden fountains, this place had nothing but foul-smelling livestock pens and stables. The lowly slaves lived here as well.
Given its location and how easily defended yet difficult to assail it was, the area held no strategic value.
This was precisely what Cross was thinking as he peeled the golden-brown skin off a soft, fluffy roasted potato and took a satisfying bite.
That is, until a panicked messenger rushed in and announced that the walls had fallen. The assembled nobles erupted in an uproar, their faces etched with disbelief.
Those walls towered over fifty feet high, fronted by a drawbridge spanning a deep chasm, and were garrisoned by hundreds of elite soldiers.
It couldn't have happened this fast, even if it were several hundred pigs lining up for slaughter.
