Louis pushed open the oak door, its hinges giving a low, muffled groan.
Varius stood inside, both hands clenched around the pen. It was nothing particularly ornate, yet to him, it weighed more than any scepter.
"Lord Louis, I will not disappoint you," he said quietly, his voice still tight, and bowed deeply.
Louis said nothing more, merely giving a slight nod.
Varius turned to leave.
His figure disappeared at the end of the corridor, his stride resolute.
Click. The door slowly closed behind him.
Almost at that same instant, the solemn, almost mentor-like expression vanished completely from Louis's face.
He raised a hand and rubbed between his brows, as though finally releasing a string that had been stretched taut for far too long.
"Phew..." He let out a long breath.
He returned to the desk, picked up the tea that had long since gone cold, and took a sip without hesitation.
Bitterness burst across the back of his tongue.
Louis frowned slightly but did not put down the cup. He took another sip, as though using it to drag himself back to reality.
The warmth and guidance in his eyes disappeared, replaced by familiar calculation and fatigue he could not conceal.
Just then, Bradley entered silently.
Brisk and without unnecessary pleasantries, he went straight to the desk, gathered the draft legislation laid out earlier, and filed each document in its labeled folder.
Then he opened another document case and spread out several new files.
The parchment showed coastal shipping routes, harbor draft limits, dockyard plans, and densely packed shipbuilding data.
Louis set the empty cup on the desk, his voice returning to its usual steadiness. "Who's next?"
Bradley glanced at the schedule in his hand. "Orland Fernando, former chief shipwright of the Southeast Province. He's also one of the