Owen Bertram nodded in silent approval: despite having spent over a decade in the harsh, cold world, he still hadn't learnt the ways of worldly intrigue. His spirit was as passionate as a young man's. Such people... were rare!
He waved his hand: "Alright, you're still injured. Go and rest." The military officers entered and carried him away. Owen Bertram again summoned Ethereal Devin: "Tomorrow, take my letter and arrange a meeting with the County Magistrate."
But after a thought, he said: "Hold on, let's wait for Nathan Lane to return, and you keep this matter in mind."
"Understood." Ethereal Devin accepted the task, but he was somewhat scratching his head. Was Lord Algernon treating him as a scribe or a master? He wasn't cut out for this...
After he had exited, in a rush, he found paper and pen, compiled a small notebook himself, and recorded all the tasks Lord Algernon had assigned one by one, lest he forgets later...
