Sitting in the consulate's reception room, tasting the sweet red tea, Fuer and Rotis exchanged pleasantries, casually chatting about everyday matters.
Setting his teacup on the pure white coffee table, Fuer was the first to break the peaceful, nostalgic atmosphere,
"Uncle, you didn't come to the library specifically to see me, but rather you had other business to attend to and took the opportunity to visit me, right?"
After some thought, Fuer couldn't think of any other reason why Rotis would suddenly seek him out, ultimately reaching this conclusion.
Rotis, clad in silver-white armor with his graying mid-length hair tied back at the nape, bore subtle signs of aging on his forehead. He appeared noble and commanding, not like a Duke, but rather like a knight standing next to the Duke.
