Jackal was sleeping on a stack of gold coins that towered up several inches above the floor.
A perfectly good, well dressed bed was just by the side of the room, but somehow, he preferred the coarse texture of gold pricking his back.
The room was at peace, his chest slowly rising and falling, a small smile on his lips that broadened whenever he would fuddle coins.
That was until the door swung open…
And a bucket of chilling, cold water was emptied on his head.
"Haaaa—!"
Jackal suddenly sprang up to his feet in panic. For a second, his grey eyes narrowed into reptilian slits, just before they widened, his eyes searching the room.
The moment they landed on the culprit, he stiffened like a log.
Standing at the door post, a stoic look on her face, hands on her waist, and an empty bucket by her side was none other than Ciera. His maid.
She was a young woman, barely nineteen, yet it did not show in the way she carried herself.
