"Common ground..."
Velin repeated the words. In his crystal glass, golden bubbles silently rose and burst.
The celebration continued, and the side hall of the royal palace was filled with the nobles' cheerful laughter and the mixed scents of perfume and food, but all of it was rapidly fading away.
Velin's thoughts plunged downward.
Alchemical creatures, the Lord of Gray Swamp, the old Marquis's sudden and violent death, his brother's "accident."
Velin didn't think he had anything in common with the man.
Hector seemed to notice Velin's distraction and raised his glass.
"My Lord Count, you seem to have something on your mind?"
"Are you perhaps troubled by how to govern such a vast territory? The Grey Marsh Territory, the Newly Cultivated Land, and the distant Southern Islands. It's quite a heavy responsibility."
A few nearby nobles who had been eavesdropping revealed knowing smiles. It sounded like a senior figure showing concern for a junior.
