Henrik continued smiling as he leisurely raised his glass to his lips. The sight of the three musketeers aside from Sylvester freezing in shock at the revelation of his identity was amusing. And he could see that Sylvester knew he found them amusing.
After all, in Clomodor, it is better to be the predator than the prey, and the young immature students in front of him were the weakest of the weak when they were thrown outside of the school walls.
Sylvester grimaced. The Dukedom of Quille was a House which prized business and stratagem, and Henrik Odin Quille may not help them if he did not like them.
"You know, Sylvester," Henrik began, "When I heard that you had enrolled into the Ascendrias Academy in Auglarus, I thought you had gone mad. After all, escaping from Clomodor by going to our enemy country is not a smart way to disappear from the eyes that have been watching us all around. You were sacrificing everything you had built here to have some fun overseas. I find the idea…distinctively hilarious of all the stupid things you have done."
Sylvester groaned in his mind.
"…I had no choice," he leaned back against the soft chair and elegantly said, trying to stay composed. "You were not in my position then; I just felt it was time to go and so I went. Late thanks for the financial help by the way, it was, oh so generous that I am sure you probably gave up one of your little bowties for it. Besides…" his tone darkened. "I'd rather disappear than let her lose her head, you know?"
Sylvester received the glass of wine from Henrik. The bloody swirl inside the glass only gave rise to bad memories.
Henrik poured another glass of wine but retracted his hand after half-offering it to Alistair, who sat beside him. Alistair's hand was left hanging in the air for an awkward moment before he gracefully withdrew it.
"Well, I would have to take your word for it, for everyone else involved in that matter seems to be dead," Henrik rolled his eyes. "And excuses are just excuses.
"Speaking of which, what flimsy excuse might you have to stumble into poor Enzak when there seems to be turmoil in your beloved Palace?"
Henrik's sharp eyes grazed across the three foreigners, who sat straighter on their seats.
"Sir Quille, you know about what happened in the Palace?" Marianne bravely asked, her hands grasped tightly.
"Why, and who might this little cat be, straying into my humble restaurant? Of course, I'd know about what happened in the Palace, darling. Explosions, fires and several deaths, and suddenly, the Moon Saint and her little friends took a leave of absence from school and disappeared. Royal guards tightened the school perimeters, and oh, everyone is so worried.
"Ah, only, I wonder where they might have gone?"