The Monster

It was the same subdued feeling at the borderlands—gloomy, dim, and motionless. The weather was in no favor for joyfulness. Somehow, amidst the deathly air in the atmosphere, heathens and the unwanted never cared about the circumstance. They all had a feast of liquor and lust at their tables. Red and aged wine flowed like a river from barrels to cups while scandalous women entertained the rowdy folks with dancing, laughter, and seduction. Everyone inside the busy pub rejoiced as they shouted profane words like it was second nature to them.

However, Duke Gervasio remained quiet. With all the merriment and Jezebels competing for attention, he only engrossed himself, staring at some faraway dream.

“What is the matter, Your Grace?” A scarlet asked.

“What’s with the long face? You still have not chosen a companion among us.” Added by another one.