Evening arrived quickly.
Michael had already finished his preparations and was simply waiting for the Duke's carriage to arrive.
Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long.
When the sound of wheels rolling down the cobbled street reached his ears, he stepped outside.
The breeze was cool, and the lamps lining the district cast a soft, flickering glow across the semi-dark streets of the outer city.
Tonight, he was dressed well.
His long black hair, smooth and glossy, had been pulled into a low ponytail tied with a silver band.
A few stray strands framed his sharp features, and his emerald-green eyes gleamed beneath the soft glow of the lanterns. Calm. Sharp. Majestic.
His outfit was a masterpiece tailored that same day in the inner city—and paid for entirely in gold coins.
A deep obsidian suit trimmed with muted silver lines clung to his frame perfectly. The inner shirt beneath the jacket was a dark wine red, subtle yet refined.
