Naranya's independent office had a window overlooking a meticulously cultivated garden, a masterpiece of the Bennett family's gardeners. When Sharan Bennett served as a police inspector, those vibrant and colorful flowers, basked in sunlight, always managed to lift her spirits during exhausting times.
Today, the brocade curtains transformed the splendid, vivid flowers into mere ornaments on the fabric, and it was clear that the new governor didn't care much for them. Ralph Butler's office was like a dimly lit ice cellar, and although the garden outside was still tended with care, the only onlookers were passersby walking past the sheriff's office.
Thirty minutes ago, the Specter's carriage had reached the boundary of Naranya, scaring off the tenant farmers with an unusually cold wind. Afterwards, the two sheriffs returned home. Perhaps, for Ralph, the sheriff's office was his home.
Ralph Butler was a respected sheriff, but that didn't mean I was willing to interact with him.
