Vacuse studied Drenvar as he entered the room. He looked pale and a little thinner from the night before, but his eyes blazed just as bright.
'...he must have been caught completely off guard by yesterday as well...'
'...I'm glad you don't die you bastard maker... I still haven't felt the satisfaction of having your blood on my hands...'
Vacuse scanned the room for the other guests.
Skya Vorrakyn was sitting there with her face worn and tired, but her eyes glaring as usual. A man with red eyes sat beside him, and then opposite him stood a man with brown eyes and black hair mixed with white.
The man with the brown eyes had no aura of Soulbearer, but his presence was that of a person used to authority.
Then completely away from the table, another table was set far away from the side, and on it sat different people, including Lyra.
Vacuse took a step forward, clasped his hands, and bowed. "Your Grace."
