The governor was in his lavish, decadent bedroom, his silk sheets tangled around his limbs as the dim light of the evening filtered through the heavy curtains. The room smelled of incense and perfume, but the true scent of indulgence was more immediate—he was lost in the pleasure of a woman, her body sprawled beneath him. The whore, a young woman from one of the finer districts, gasped softly, her back arched as he indulged in his most primal desires. The governor's face was buried deep between her legs, his grip firm on her thighs, his mind blissfully oblivious to the outside world.
Just as he was lost in the euphoria of the moment, the door to his chambers suddenly flew open, and a soldier stepped in, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of the governor's indiscretions.
The soldier knelt before him, trembling as he delivered the news. "Your Excellency, your brother… Darek is dead."