Azrael bid farewell to the others and walked to his dorm.
He wanted silence, but as he approached his room, he sensed something strange.
There was a presence inside.
Soft movements. The faint scrape of a cup on a saucer.
He pushed the door open.
The assigned maid stood there, holding a coffee cup with shaky hands.
She nearly spilled it when she saw him, a little gasp escaping her lips.
"Umm… young master, welcome back," she said.
Her voice carried no excitement, no joy. Only blank panic.
Azrael narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here? And why do I feel like you're hiding something?"
She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling. "Master… you have visitors."
"Visitors?" His tone sharpened. "In my room?"
"Yes," she whispered. "They are inside."
His teeth clenched. Clench. "How the hell did you let them inside without my permission?"
The maid stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. "But master… she is—"
