The stone corridors of the Valtrane estate had survived centuries of sieges and bitter frosts, but they almost felt like they were trembling with how hard Zarius was moving. To the staff pressed against the walls, he wasn't just their master, he was a terrifying, monochromatic blur of black silk and white face powder. A "Monster Duke" exactly like the rumors said.
He wasn't alone, though it felt like he was moving through the world by himself. Elios, Flio, and a frantic Marielle trailed in his wake like the tail of a vengeful comet. Behind them all, the guard who had delivered the message wheezed, his lungs burning from the effort of keeping pace with a man who was currently moving as if the world were ending.
Zarius didn't hear the whistling Northern wind. He didn't hear the clatter of boots behind him. His consciousness had narrowed down to a single, frantic fragment of a sentence, a single piece of information that cut straight through his usual calm.
