Georgie Maximus stood beneath the broad shade of the ancient tree. In his hands rested a delicate wooden box, no larger than two open palms.
Its surface shimmered with tiny, exquisite jewels used to design the outer layer, and the craftsmanship alone was enough for the onlookers to have fanciful thoughts of the content inside.
With a slight smile that reflected the well-bred grace of his refined character, he bowed deeply to the Archduke. "It was my pride that had made me blind. I sincerely hope that you can forgive me, Your Grace."
From his humble plea to his perfectly composed posture of remorse, no one could find a single flaw in Georgie.
Just days ago, this same royal minister had scorned the northern people, calling them savages. Who would have thought that instead of going back to the royal capital, he would return to ask for forgiveness?
Ray let out a short, derisive snort, already shifting his stance to throw the man out.
