Marquis Belon walked out of the Little King's bedchamber without a trace of expression. He looked up at Stinnard's gloomy sky and sighed inwardly. What a willful child. He used such a precious privilege for Marquis Lancelot's sake. I wonder what they'll do about it. After laying the groundwork for so long, what are they planning? The conflict between Lorenzo and Ruen has reached a boiling point. Are they hoping to reap the rewards, or do they have something else in mind?
With those questions on his mind, Marquis Belon made his way out of the Royal Palace.
Back at his estate, Marquis Belon dismissed his personal servant and poured himself a drink alone in his study.
Few people liked this liquor made from sugarcane and sweet potatoes. It was too bitter. Marquis Belon, however, loved it. Every night, when all was quiet, he drank a glass alone. Its fiery bite and bitter aftertaste always brought back memories of his youth.
As the youngest son of a noble family fallen on hard times, Belon had climbed all the way to the rank of Marquis. His life had been remarkable. The first half of it could have made a gripping, inspiring tale of political ambition.
But good fortune never lasted forever.
Just when everything had been going his way, he had made one disastrous mistake. To stay alive, he had fled to this Void Realm far from the Main World.
"How many years has it been?" Marquis Belon murmured. He took another deep swallow of liquor, letting its bitter aftertaste rise in his throat.
Just then, part of the wall on one side of the spacious study swung open to reveal a hidden door. A figure in a gray hooded robe stepped out, lowering the hood as she said evenly, "You're