Wooing the Young Lord

As they walked towards the castle, Azrael couldn't shake off the worry of being recognized, especially considering the incident at the tavern where he had stayed, involving Bertarm's delivery man.

If someone from there spotted him, it could mean trouble.

The lord's castle was perched on top of the hill, overseeing the surroundings. The hill itself looked like a plateau, with houses scattered along its slopes.

These homes were built in a stepped manner, following the natural rise of the land.

At the center of the plateau, the lord's castle stood tall, commanding attention and radiating a sense of power and authority.

"Illeron," Azrael called.

"Hmm?" Illeron replied, his gaze fixed on the castle.

"When we meet the lord, don't spill anything crucial, alright?" Azrael cautioned. Illeron nodded.

"I won't."