Evan erupted in a furious outburst, his face contorted with rage. He swept his arm across his desk, sending inkwells, quills, and stacks of papers flying across the room. "How is he still alive?" he roared at Brook, his voice raw with disbelief and fury.
Brook stood impassively, unflinching despite the storm of Evan's anger. A thin trickle of blood ran down his cheek where a hurled object had grazed him. "I don't know, my lord," he replied, his voice even and lacked emotion.
Evan grabbed a heavy crystal decanter and hurled it at Brook, the glass shattering against the wall behind him, sending shards scattering across the floor. "Where is that good-for-nothing bastard?" he bellowed, his eyes blazing with uncontrolled fury. "How dare he fail, I want his head on my table before dusk."
Brook remained still, his gaze steady. "He's dead, my lord," he stated calmly. "The Duke shot him before he could do anything further."
