As the twilight of the setting sun illuminated the 16th district of Paris, Clemenceau returned to his villa, exhausted.
He felt severely overdrawn.
Not just because he didn't sleep well, but also due to the internal struggles and the process of adapting after switching allegiances.
From now on, am I a supporter of Shire?
A bitter smile crossed Clemenceau's mind as he walked into the living room and sat heavily in the rocking chair by the window, allowing it to sway back and forth, hoping it might help him relax.
The butler rushed in and swiftly pulled the curtains closed, his tone filled with command and warning: "Please stay away from the window, sir."
Clemenceau realized something, muttered an "Uh-huh" and immediately got up to walk towards the sofa, but halfway there, he changed direction and sat down at the dining table.
The sofa was also in view of the window, even though the curtains were now drawn.
