Filip swept his hand across his desk and knocked the objects on it to the floor.
Papers scattered like fallen leaves, ink bottles shattered, and the quills snapped as they hit the ground. The clinking of his brass wine cup was the last sound heard in the silence of the room, echoing ominously before everything fell still.
He stood there, his chest heaving with anger, his eyes blazing with frustration.
The flickering candlelight cast jagged shadows on the walls, mirroring the chaos in his mind. He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening, as he tried to rein in his temper.
Everything he worked for, all his efforts were in vain.