Caym stood in his office, enveloped by the warm hues of the sunset casting a golden glow across the room. Having discarded his wine-red tunic, his well-toned physique was now on display, bearing the marks of battles fought and won.
Maybe one of the recruits had a point. It ran in his blood. Caym had possessed a tall stature that set him apart from others his age since his youth, convincing him that he was inherently crafted for warfare.
As Caym approached a closet tucked in the corner, he reached for one of the white peasant shirts that were purposely stocked within.
When Hector once asked why he needed a closet in his office, Caym simply said that it was practical. Having a closet nearby was more convenient than walking to his bedroom, which by the way, just happened to be right next to his office.
As Caym was putting on the shirt, a knock on the door interrupted. "Grand Commander, this is Fredrick," came the announcement from the man outside.