Clink! Clink!
The sound of gold coins striking the marble floor echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber, sharp and clear in the tense silence. The Moon-Faced Knight stood motionless, his white mask unreadable, while the guards at the door exchanged uneasy glances. Before them, Braxen feverishly tossed coins, goblets, miniature statues, and jewel-crusted trinkets into a small chest—his plump hands moving with greedy urgency.
A soldier stepped forward, heaved the overflowing chest with a grunt, and carried it away. Another guard brought in the next, setting it down with a metallic thud. Braxen immediately resumed his frantic work.
"My lord," came the calm voice of the knight.
It was the same man whose face remained hidden behind that blank, featureless white mask—save for the dark eyeholes.
