"ARE you alright, Duke Chauverthier?"
Noxton jolted upright from where he stood when Shun’s voice startled him from behind. Composing himself, he adjusted his collar and turned on his heel to face the Emperor’s secretary. He forced a stoic, composed expression — one that mirrored Shun’s usual calm and nonchalant demeanor.
"I am," Noxton replied evenly.
Shun adjusted his glasses before speaking again. "Then, are you here to request an audience with His Majesty?"
Noxton gave a curt nod. "By any chance, is the Emperor unable to grant an audience today?"
"He can, Your Grace. Howe—"
Before Shun could finish, the Emperor’s office doors swung open. A middle-aged man in a white robe stormed out, his face contorted with fury. Noxton froze for a moment, recognizing him instantly. It had been a
