The bustle of the banquet was washed away by the night.
Veylin had arranged accommodations for his guests in the newly cleared guest rooms on the second floor of the Lord's Manor.
Garris walked across the creaking wooden floor with a deep frown, clearly displeased.
The air smelled of damp wood and freshly applied tung oil. It was not unpleasant, but it carried an inescapable air of cheapness that kept grating on his sensitive nerves.
When he opened the door, his deputy was meticulously wiping down the furnishings with a clean linen cloth.
Garris took one look and said nothing. He drew another spotless white silk handkerchief from inside his coat and slowly, carefully wiped the surfaces his deputy had just cleaned.
The gesture instantly stiffened the back of the deputy standing bowed beside him, and cold sweat silently soaked through his undershirt.
Only after wiping everything down did Garris leisurely remove his coat and drape it neatly over the back of a chair.
He sat down and lightly stroked the ring on his right index finger. An invisible magical field spread out, shutting out every trace of sound from beyond the room.
"Speak."
The deputy hurriedly offered him a sheet of parchment, but Garris did not take it, merely signaling with his eyes for him to continue.
"My lord, the intelligence on Weilin Klein has been verified. He belongs to a collateral branch of the Klein family and came here at the beginning of the year with a Pioneer Edict. We found no record of substantial financial support from his family. Although Count Lyman publicly promised him protection, his stance seemed more like an attempt to distance himself, telling the outside world that this man was of little consequence."
Garris lifted his cup of water. Looking at his blurred