In the luxurious office of Astrea, the city lord sat quietly scribbling across a parchment of paper while rubbing his thick blond hair. The room was filled with gold ornaments, statues, paintings and books, with gold leaf covering the majority of surfaces.
His books remained untouched, countless spines with a layer of dust.
He was anxious, waiting for his aide to return and give information about the request he put in.
'To think she would die, a saintess candidate... I shouldn't have been so aggressive.'
When he learned about his aide contacting a dangerous group that worked from the slums, it became more serious than he thought it would.
He had no choice now but to think that a threat would escalate to death.
'I must calm myself—nobody will know.'
He gritted his teeth, leaning back with a sense of irritation; the daily tasks and requests only made him more anxious.
Ding-Dong!
