Dorothy’s father, York, was drinking tea in the manor of the Earl of Olsenburg.
Old York was holding the tea in the cup in fear. Judging from the color and fragrance, it should be the first-class jasmine tea from Faroese.
But he was not in the mood to taste the tea in the cup now.
“Master Lars, are you sure that is really the sage of Roursk?”
Count Cruz paced back and forth in the hall of the manor. The spell caster who had just returned from Nolan and his eldest son, alterk, stood respectfully to the side.
“Even if I’m blind, I can’t have mistaken my teacher for someone else. Sir Count, my teacher did indeed protect that little girl named Dorothy.”The spell caster named Lars reported everything that had happened in Nolan.
“Dorothy, Dorothy...”
Count Cruz repeated the name over and over again, then looked at Old York who was standing on the other side. The old merchant almost could not hold his teacup.
