Standing out on the balcony of his room, with a silver cup of wine in his hand, Reuel gazed into the night. The cool night air rippled through his hair and cloths.
His maids had helped him out of all the accessories and double layer of clothes he had on. Now he just wore a simple loose trouser and a black ankle-length robe.
Over and over again, her face flashed before his eyes, smiling and talking to that guard of hers.
He drank the wine to clear his head and wash away the murder intent that filled his system, but it wasn't helping. It only made the image of her in the arms of another man clearer inside his head.
Why it bothered him so much, he couldn't quite say, but it did. It bothered him more than he was willing to admit.
"Someone seems to be in a bad mood." Reuel flinched at the sound of the voice that came from behind him.
