He stood with his back to the wall and while one hand remained flat on the wall to help him remain flat next to the wall, the other hand rested calmly on the hilt of his sword. It was the same sword he had used to corner Ferran earlier in the day and get the secret out of him. He stood there knowing full well he didn’t want to hurt anybody but would do so if it became clear that it was either he got hurt or someone else who wasn’t Elle was. The sword on strapped in the sheath around his waist was a nice one, nothing as fancy, beautiful or deadly as the one hanging on the walls of his study at home, but it would do the same damage.
He had scaled the walls easily thanks to just how fit he was. He had relied on his upper body strength to climb but had not worn himself out climbing the extrem
