In the royal palace,
"I thought you were not going to come anymore." a man in his mid fifties looked at Damien with a thrilled look as waved his hands toward the chair.
"I apologize for being late, Your Majesty. I was completing the task you have sent me for." His voice was so calm that one could not feel any emotion in it but the man still laughed with his eyes glittering.
"The way I wanted it?" his question stilled Damien for a second. He could have killed those ruffians with his sword. Or daggers, or crossbows. He could have slit them and no one would have known it was him. But this man wanted them to be burnt and without burning anything around him.
"Yes, the way you wanted." The words felt forced but the man did not care. He nodded with his whole body radiation joy. He looked so thrilled as if he would break the table just by tapping on it.
