Suddenly exhausted, Riley felt like he'd aged ten years just from sitting there.
Even now, he still couldn't wrap his head around why everyone saw this job as some grand prize.
What would anyone even do with money they never had time to spend?
Power? Sure. But what was power to a human who could die the moment someone blinked too hard?
Those things meant nothing to Riley.
He didn't hate the job. Not exactly. But he knew deep down, he wasn't suited for it.
Because more than anything, he was paying for this so-called honor with time he didn't even have.
"So you're saying," Lady Cirila asked carefully, "you had absolutely no idea about the nature of the work… or the contract?"
"No, my lady," Riley replied honestly. "I only found out about the contract five years later… the moment I tried resigning. Just recently."
The air turned heavy with seriousness, and Riley—being Riley—attempted to lighten the mood.
