Izan's mind was still wrapped in the shocking news Duko had delivered, the Montclairs daughter possibly alive and hiding in the Velvet Moon Pavilion.
His pulse raced as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. It made no sense. Nineteen years ago, she had been condemned to slavery, yet now, how come? What this also the Duke's doing?
Disguised as a merchant, as he always was when visiting the pavilion, Izan had made the decision not to inform the Emperor until he uncovered more details. His gut told him something much deeper lay beneath the surface, and he needed to unravel it before making his move.
As he walked through the familiar corridors of the Velvet Moon Pavilion, he instinctively made his way toward Elian's chambers. His mind lingered on the young courtesan, the one person who somehow managed to pierce through the cold exterior Izan had built for himself.
