Lucien's brows knotted as he gave Azimuth, Holgur, and Mozrath a cold look. "Well?" The throne room looked cold when Yllana was not sitting beside him. It would be heaven when she's there. But when it's just Lucien, they felt it was the opposite.
The three looked at each other. They were now wearing their silver masks in accordance with Lucien's orders to identify them as pat of the newly minted army, the Black Moon Army. And now Lucien regrets ordering them to wear the mask. He could not read their expressions now that he could only see their eyes and lips.
"Master? Have the headaches subsided?" Azimuth, who was urged by the two, tried his best to show courage and speak first.
Lucien shot him a death glare. It surprised him how these three servants still think of his headaches. He covered his face with his hand. "There is no cure to this."
