It Means War

Aleena lowered his gaze and stared at the beautiful, intricate pattern of the rug. It would be so unfortunate if it was to be marred by...say, a splatter of blood.

Because the way the Lord of Greed looked at them now, felt like the guillotine was already right behind their neck.

Aleena, and most certainly her brother, the foolish Lord of Lust, thought the matter had been resolved with the druid's 'curse'. But yesterday, one of the elders flew from the realm of lust and arrived at the castle just past midnight; exhausted and pale.

Oh, no--the matter was not even remotely closed.

The elder told her that the Lord of Greed had demanded his presence, anon. And now, the next day, she was here, in a room usually employed for secret conferences; soundproof, magic-proof, escape-proof.