The tide pounded the foundation of the ancient castle, eroding the layers of rock for countless years, and under the impact of the waves, it emitted a sound reminiscent of musical instruments.
In February, Wenster was still covered in solid ice, but the ocean waves already carried the warmth of spring, frothing freely in the sea.
Sandro stood by the window, quietly listening to these sounds heralding the coming of spring.
He loved these sounds.
Or perhaps, he loved the sea.
Unfortunately, some people could no longer hear this sound of spring.
Klei.
Ernest Kreine.
Honestly, Sandro could hardly remember how many years he had known him.
Thirty years, or twenty-eight?
When they first met, he was a warm-hearted fellow, always with a laugh on his face.
It seemed like nothing weighed on his mind.
At the same time, he was a restless man; he didn't want to stagnate in the old family name, even though his best friend was the heir of a family.
