175 The Cursed Blood

The evening bells came from the direction of the Westminster Palace. The glow of the sunset fell from the sky and cascaded over the white city, making the royal palace shine majestically. Light passed through the narrow, colorful window and dimmed.

The dim light fell on Hermes's face. Sitting on the chair, he looked at the intricate patterns on the stained glass in boredom. Behind him was a heavy curtain.

Compared to the splendor of the royal palace, this room was too simple and too clean. There was not even the slightest bit of décor. The smell of medicine hung heavily in the air. A woman’s hoarse cough sounded faintly behind the curtain, making the room seem like a hospital; however, this was not a hospital room, but the bedchamber of the Queen.

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