“Where’s my brother?” Regulus asked one of the guards as soon as he reached the gate of the mansion.
The guard bowed to the guest in panic and stuttered, “I d-don’t think anyone has moved him from t-the place where he was l-l-l-last found.”
“And where might that be?” Regulus’ voice sounded as calm as the sea even when he looked like he was in a hurry to see the dead body of his brother.
The guard kept on bowing his head when he answered, “In the dungeon, Milord.”
Regulus instantly headed towards the dungeon at a speed that was faster than the wind. He briefly paused when he reached the broken-down door of the dungeon. He narrowed his eyes at the damaged steel door and then ran down the stairs.
A man in his late fifties immediately stood in front of Regulus and gave a low bow. “We were waiting for your arrival, Milord,” his voice sounded heavy, almost as if it was taking a great deal of effort for him to control himself from breaking down right then.
