The smell of bitter tea lingered inside the room as a man wearing a hat arrived inside the room. The man's name was Pratt and he couldn't help the excitement that he felt after hearing the news of the Duke's arrival in the black market.
"This faithful servant greets the Duke of the North," he bowed, removing his hat before kneeling on one knee— a gesture that was pretty common in the North. "Your grace."
"Take your seat… we have no time to waste." The man drinking the bitter tea had a black mask that covered half of his face. It was Duke Lucas of the North.
"Yes," the man put his hat back on, covering his bald head. "We have been expecting your visit, your grace."
"Have you secured the package?" As expected, Duke Lucas went straight to the point. Pratt smiled at this. The Young Duke might be young, but his direct and blunt traits were what all the Four Quarter Masters liked about him.
"We are working on it," Pratt responded.
"How many do you have now?"
