The pale light of the full moon seeped through the arched windows of the knight’s quarters, casting an eerie glow along the corridor. Heavy black boots thudded against the polished marble floor, each step reverberating like a mournful wail. Sentries stiffened and saluted as the tall, imposing figure in military uniform strode down the hall. But Vlad passed them by without so much as a glance, as if they were nothing more than fixtures along his path.
It wasn’t until their lord had ascended the stairs that the sentries dared to breathe again.
“His gaze is always fearsome, but today, he looked absolutely terrifying,” one of them muttered under his breath.
“Must be because of what happened. One of the Isles Guild men was exposed as a procurer,” another replied.
“Good heavens! The Duchess must be quite distressed, knowing someone she cares about may be executed. His Lordship’s never shown mercy to those involved in such things.”
