Bigusler Family, reception hall.
Lord Rocque sat on the sofa, looking at the person opposite him, his normally unexpressive staunch face was now filled with gloom and a faint rage.
"Father..."
A voice, equally filled with anger but also carrying a hint of subtle unease, came from beside Lord Rocque, reaching his ears and causing him to divert his gaze and look over.
There, a woman clad in light armor and wielding a sword at her waist, who looked exceptionally valiant, sat beside Lord Rocque, looking at him with a humiliation obvious to all in her eyes.
Lord Rocque had reason to believe that his own eyes were likely reflecting the same humiliation.
The situation they were now facing was no different from an insult.
"Have you made up your mind, Lord Rocque?"
A voice with a cold sneer rose from across Lord Rocque.
There sat a middle-aged man, slightly younger than Lord Rocque but also in his forties.
