Knock. Knock.
A sharp, rhythmic sound broke the silence of the room.
Derek didn't look up immediately. He finished his signature, blowing gently on the wet ink to dry it.
"Enter," Derek spoke, his voice deep and calm.
The heavy wooden door creaked open. A guard stepped inside. It was one of the men Derek trusted, a soldier who had served in the family guard for ten years. He was currently assigned to the mining district, specifically to watch over the exiled Second Master.
The guard closed the door softly and walked to the center of the room. He bowed low, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Your Grace," the guard said.
Derek looked up. He set the quill down in its holder. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Report," Derek said. "How is my brother enjoying his new life?"
