[ Imperial Palace ]
Conan was running through the hallway in a hurry, panting for air, when he slammed the door open. His action, although abrupt, didn't startle the emperor.
Sitting behind the large desk to accommodate the mountains of documents, Abel slowly raised his head to the door. He tilted his head to the side, noticing Conan's ashen complexion.
"Bad news?" he asked, arching a brow.
"Your Majesty." Conan cleared his throat and hurriedly approached the desk, planting both his hands on the surface of the desk. "Morro returned."
Conan's shaking voice tickled a part of Abel's heart. His gut feeling told him to prepare for what his vassal hadn't said yet.
"And the Marquess?" Abel asked, observing the sudden fear that flickered across Conan's eyes. Right then and there, Abel had already guessed what Conan was about to say.
