After nightfall, fine snowflakes suddenly began to drift through the cloud-choked skies of Ereno, the imperial capital.
At three in the morning, the study of the brightly lit Caster estate stood in the old nobles' residential district.
It was nothing like the spare, austere study of Ostan, an admiral of the navy.
The duke's study was more like a captain's cabin.
Prime Minister Caster's study, by contrast, was a blend of scholar's retreat and conspirator's den.
Oak bookshelves reaching the ceiling were crammed with imperial law books, historical archives, and works on magical theory.
The walls held no maps of the Empire's seas, but a map of its territories and charts of noble family lines.
While the rest of the Royal Capital slept, Wolf, who had stayed up late for the first time in ages, had received an encrypted message half an hour earlier.
The parchment magic scroll, delivered remotely by a secret envoy, had already turned to ash in the fireplace.
But its contents remained seared into his mind:
Dries Ostan was confirmed dead from poisoning. His eldest son had vanished under mysterious circumstances after entering the palace and was suspected to have been abducted by assassins from the United States of Amika.
"Assassins?"
At his desk, Wolf repeated the word softly. A cold smile tugged at his lips.
Clearly, the calculating prime minister had long since worked out the truth behind the Ostan Family's change of power.
As if something had occurred to him, he walked slowly to the window. Through the fine snow drifting over the capital, his hawklike eyes turned toward the Imperial Ground Army headquarters.
His gaze wavered.
Decades ago, he and Dris had stood on the roof of that building.
Two young men fresh out of the Military Academy had sworn beneath the stars