Nobles that had been invited over on account of an investigation for those that had plotted against the King were not exactly treated with care, neither too badly.
There were made to stay in rooms were food was provided for them daily.
As nobles, it was a better accommodation fitting their status than the prison cells for prisoners.
However, with the arrival of the Anchor stone, this investigation of a thing was going to be taking more time.
Then again it was always bound to.
Nevertheless, all hearts were in chaos at the moment.
How couldn't they be?
Just outside the accomodation made for them was the Guillotine.
A structure made of two polls on the side, made to guide a heavy blade to the neck below it.
Once in a while, a noble would meet his fate.
Whether he intended to or not.
Sometimes the guards would come for them in the middle of the night while they sleep.
No reason whatsoever would be given, except that the individual had been found guilty.
Straight up to the guillotine.
His blood would add to the brown rust on the blade.
Ready to accompanying yet again, another unfortunate soul.
These timely visits ensured two things.
Firstly, they were always on their toes and never satisfied.
Also, the psychological pressure made many nobles start to talk with the guards.
Snitching was the dice and it was rolled by many nobles.
Many of them snitching their own family members to save themselves.
Whether it had to do with usurping the throne or not, it was spilled like milk.
Anything to save one's own skin.
Like any other, Lady Frostbite's heart was in great unrest.
What was she to do?
She was alone here.
Viscount Peter had escaped the very night he was brought here.
How a fragile man like himself did it was not known, but it was surely a testimony of the rumours about him and the third prince.
Confirming to many that the third prince really desired the throne.
As a Baron under the escaped Viscount, she was interrogated a great number of times.
Every time she was taken out of the room for questioing, her fear of what was to befall her fate was like standing at the edge of a cliff, and enjoying the temptation of falling over.
With the amounts of times she had been taken and brought back, the other nobles were starting to think that something might be special about her.
Some assumed that maybe she had been touching her toes before the guards a lot and they took rounds at her.
Maybe that was why her fledging death was not yet guaranteed.
Some noble women in desperate attempt at preserving their own lives, offered themselves up to the lowly guards promising them memorable nights of pleasure.
These were guards that they would have never paid mind too because of their status.
Yet, because of fear, they willing to offer their bodies like candy to a child.
Of course human beings were depraved creatures by nature.
Many guards saw it as an opportunity to taste delicacies they never would be allowed to if not due to circumstances.
Echoes of their offerings could be heard from the hallways.
Lady Frostbite like many others could tell that these guards did not go easy on the offerings-enjoying every meal like it was their last.
Meanwhile, Lady Frostbite could not help but wonder two things.
Firstly, who was that man with the lightning that had developed a habit of always saving her life.
She already knew he was her first, but why the constant elude of his presence in her life?
Secondly, why was she the only Baron under Viscount Peter that was here?
Something did not feel right...
......
Meanwhile, in a secret room in a particular location, the escaped Viscount Peter sat at a table, one leg over the other with his smoking pipe in his mouth.
He was still dressed as extravagant as ever with a flowery gown and a white scarf, giving out feminine charms like the boss lady of a Pub.
Before her sat two gentlemen.
One of them looked to be in his early fifties, and the other looked a bit younger but his charm was still that of an older generation man.
If Lady Frostbite was here, she would know who the first one was on first sight.
After all, he was supposed to be her father in-law.
This was Baron Crood.
He had an ugly frown on his face as he stared at Viscount Peter.
Viscount Peter winked at him, and blew him a kiss.
This made the Baron frown even more.
"How dare you!?" He muttered lowly.
"Me!?" Viscount Peter raised a brow at him.
"Yes, you!?"
"What did I do darling!?"
"My son died under your watch?"
"My watch!? Did I not warn you to stay away from the Frostbite family? But you didn't listen. You were too busy trying to increase your territory into my own so that you could become a Viscount. You are Lucky the Grand Order took him out after using him, or I would have ended him myself." He gave a light giggle like a young maiden.
Baron Crood frowned even tighter and he was about to flair up from his seat as his Soul energy drifted slowly from his body in rage.
However, a voice stopped him of any malicious thoughts he had.
"He is right BARON!"
There all turned to the voice.
It was a man in full butler tunic. He wore a monocle and his face was well shaved.
He appeared to be in his mid thirties. Compared to these men, he was quite young.
However, even Viscount Peter had a respectful look in his eyes when he arrived and even quenched his cigarette.
"Butler Pa! It's nice to see you," Viscount Peter immediately greeted.
As he did, so did the other two men.
"It's nice to see you too," Butler Pa nodded, then he turned to Baron Crood.
"Your Son had dealings with the Grand Order, and you have the galls to state your dissatisfaction with his death!? Baron Crood, do you take the third Prince for a fool?"
As he talked, the Monocle slowly turned a shade of red.
Baron Crood swallowed again and again. He tried to talk, bit he couldn't.
Cold sweat already appeared on his skin.
As it did, the other gentleman stood up to keep his distance from the Baron.
And then it happened.
A low POP sound was heard and the blood flowed from the Baron's nose.
His eyes sank into his brain as he left this world.
Butler Pa turned to Viscount Peter with a smile on his face like what had just happened was not his handy work.
"Viscount Peter, an anchor stone has appeared in your territory. Preparations are to be made. TheThird prince will see you now."
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