Damian returned to his residence in the evening, long after the sun had begun to sink beneath the horizon.
The streets of the Imperial Capital remained tense. Soldiers patrolled the avenues in greater numbers than usual, while demonic officials hurried between government buildings, carrying orders stamped with the imperial seal.
The destruction of the Northern Palace had changed the atmosphere of the entire city. Even the demons who had not witnessed Sol's rampage understood that something terrible had happened. Nobody knew where the Tyrant Prince had gone, and that uncertainty frightened them more than the destruction itself.
Damian had hoped to return to his chambers, enjoy a quiet evening with his wife. Instead, the moment he stepped through the gates of his residence, a servant hurried forward and informed him that Duke Astaroth and Duke Paimon were waiting inside.
Damian stopped and his violet eyes narrowed slightly.
"How long have they been waiting?" he asked.
