I prepared the King’s tea.
Behind me, King Zavan outlined a strict overhaul of authoritative procedures regarding the omegas. True to his word, it became the priority of the initial morning meetings.
This was the Tyrant King? I knew firsthand that the upper ranks’ treatment of the omegas was unnecessarily harsh, but I had thought it was at least partially by design.
However, with how adamant King Zavan sounded as he relayed his points to the Epsilon aide, it seemed as though he truly had no part in the oppression, nor did he want any.
It didn’t fit. A man like him shouldn’t have cared about any of that. A man who’s done the things he has with no remorse.
The aide was gone by the time I returned to the desk, leaving only a trace scent of perfume in the air that gave me pause. Nonethele
