The hall was oddly silent. Many nobles held their breaths when they watched Damon escorting eastern envoys to the royal court.
The face of the king was darker than pot and though he tried to control it, it was hard after knowing what happened in the duke's manor this morning. The taste of betrayal was rancid and the king felt nauseated by it.
"Damon Aykroyd! What is the meaning of this?" The voice was like thunder shaking the heart of the nobles who waited with bated breath.
They wanted to know what had happened. Their ears itching for the gossip. But no one dared to ask the question and no one knew the right answer.