Silver Moon Earl's Domain, Dusk Star Manor.
The air was filled with the rich fragrance of roses and desserts, but no one was truly in the mood to enjoy them. Even the splashing of the fountain and the string music from the band seemed cautiously subdued, as if afraid to disturb the false tranquility. The lavishly dressed noble guests held crystal glasses, their smiles stiff, their gazes inevitably drawn to the man in the center of the courtyard—the Marquis of Black Flame, Hector Este.
In the Duchy, the Marquis's name was now more terrifying than the plague itself. It was rumored that wherever he went, heretics had nowhere to hide, yet the sheer cruelty of his methods sent a chill down the spine of all who heard of them.
