High above the bustling capital, on a grand balcony overlooking both the city and a meticulously maintained private garden, Count Nicalo lounged in an ornate chair. The newsletter lay open on the marble table before him, alongside a delicate porcelain tea service. Several maids moved silently around the balcony, ensuring every comfort was attended to.
Across from him sat a woman of striking beauty, though half her face remained concealed behind an elegant mask of silver filigree and sapphires. Her posture was perfect, her movements graceful as she reached for her teacup.
"What do you make of this, Azaroth?" she asked, her voice melodic yet tinged with an undercurrent of something ancient and powerful.
The man's pleasant expression hardened instantly. "How many times must I remind you, Vaesha? Do not use that name, especially not here." He gestured vaguely at the maids. "Get used to addressing me as Count Nicalo, or don't address me at all."
