Vincent, the Rochester family's loyal knight, appeared before him, presenting the duke's final letter. His eyes burned with resentment.
The griffon he rode trembled in fear as it stood beside Marcus, who licked his fangs with interest.
"This came from Duke Rochester?" Michael asked as he took the letter and began reading.
His face grew increasingly grim with each line—but inwardly, he felt at ease. There would be no civil war. No drawn-out purge. The rebellion had already destroyed itself.
So he took all the rebels with him in death, and asked only for mercy on his surviving family? Hah… clever.
Michael snorted softly, then met Vincent's gaze.
The knight gripped a dagger lodged deep in his throat, blood pouring between his fingers. His strength was gone, his body nearly lifeless—but his eyes never left Michael.
"This… grudge… will never… be forgotten…"
Vincent collapsed, his words dying with him.
The griffon, sensing its master's passing, let out a mournful cry.
