The sound of rustling leaves filled his ears.
A man sat under the towering tree of the Fraunces domed greenhouse. A cloud of gloom surrounds the area. A silence so ominous as if death was lingering in the air. The flowers were bright, the scent of herbs and mana was captivating, and the dazzling leaves that hang from the branches of the trees looked magnificent to the eyes. Indeed, the sight would lift one's spirit.
But there was no joy felt. The man who sat with cold, lifeless eyes was none other than the heir of the Fraunces nobility. The young lord Maxille raised his hand to his face. A dreadful and weary sigh escaped his mouth. His head was lowered. It differs significantly from the more dignified posture he always wore. If one entered the area, their eyes would widen in shock and surprise at the sight.