The Fleeting Clouds

"His Majesty's written order has been formally issued."

Gilbert, seated opposite him, beamed as he raised his teacup and took a small sip.

"News of your return and ennoblement has already spread throughout Everstar City. In a few days, the entire Central Territory—and indeed the whole country—will know."

In the reception room, Tales—as its master rather than its guest—smiled helplessly.

With the languor of someone just risen, the boy stood and slowly strolled to the window.

Morning light filtered through the gauze curtains, illuminating the reception room, which was understated in decoration but spotless and as good as new.

Tales raised the window, and fresh air rushed toward him.

Along with a sudden, grating din.

"Yes," the newly appointed Duke of Star Lake yawned as he leaned against the window and pressed a hand to his lower back. "I can feel it from here."

Mindis Hall below was anything but peaceful.

The roads outside the garden and iron gate had long since been packed with carriages of every description. That did not even include the many visitors who had come on foot or horseback, quite a few of them dressed in finery and wearing conspicuous badges.

Outside the iron gate, the Royal Guard and Bright Star Private Soldiers were doing their utmost, rushed off their feet as they explained and tried to dissuade the visitors.

Tales leaned closer to the window. Sin of the Hell River filled his ears, allowing him to catch fragments of conversation.

"Sorry, my lord, but Mindis Hall is not receiving guests this month," Vanguard Officer Gollor's stiff, solemn voice came from before the iron gate. "Only His Majesty's specially authorized written order can get you through..."

Then another, slightly agitated voice drowned out Gollor.

"No, no, Luke, I was your classmate for four years, but