In Professor Hector Rain's office, the flames in the fireplace crackled, casting warm light upon the neatly arranged heavy tomes.
The air was filled with the serene scent of parchment and old ink, everything orderly, just like Hector's image of commanding authority without anger.
Yet at this moment, the distinguished professor felt the flames of the fireplace were burning his back, like the scorching Holy Light.
Prince Colin's casual inquiry pierced through his effort to maintain composure like a cold needle.
"Surely it wasn't all spent on the 'ladies', was it?"
Hector felt his heart skip a beat.
He was merely an academician responsible for academics and administration, not a finance officer, much less a Sage wielding power within the Council of Sages.
He wasn't even close to the Sages.
That question felt like a red-hot iron passed lightly by the other party; he couldn't accept without accepting, nor refuse without refusing, unsure of how to respond.
