[...to the sanctum that wishes to silence us, this is only the beginning.]
The furniture within the Blakeson estate would need to be replaced. Gilbert was on a rampage once again, Trent was safely retreated to the corner of the dining hall. He'd seen his master do this more times than he cared to admit.
"How did you miss that they had cameras? Don't I just look like an idiot, going in front of the country?" He shouted kicking the door in.
Trent fidgeted in the corner, trying his best to avoid getting the full blast of his master's anger but it was proving difficult.
"Sir, they had peculiar technology, I already told you..."
"Don't you dare patronise me Trent. Call an emergency meeting." He ordered him, he's anger not subsiding at all.
The women he took in were told, strictly by Trent to stay away, fortunately they listened. There was no way they could've survived his wrath, he thought.
