Eastland, Part 11

He opened his eyes and, out of breath, Azrael rose quickly. Breathing heavily, his heart pounded like thousands of cannons firing.

His clock roared, warning her it was time to wake up.

He had had a nightmare

A horrible nightmare.

Azrael dreamed of Isabell entering his room and doing profane, immoral, and unspeakable things.

His train of thought was disturbed by a knocking sound at her door, which was actually more of a knock than a knock. "Lord Azrael? Are you okay? We hear strange noises from your room. "

He heard the familiar voice of a man. Cursing himself, why did he need to set the alarm so loud? "No problem, Tyron! Wait a minute!"

Before long, Azrael quickly outfitted his black leather armor with metallic pseudo-foils, draped his cloak over his body, and didn't forget to put on his long-brimmed hat.

Walking calmly to the door, he gently opened it.

"Tyron ... I said don't call me Lord ... I'm not a noble."