The Farewell

In the office, Ashes met Roland Wimbledon again. He was buried in documents, writing. It seemed that he was handling some work. The sun was tilting to the west and the sky was painted with a touch of golden color. The sunlight came through the casement windows and lifted a long shadow before the table.

Ashes waited until the prince put down his quill before proclaiming, "I won."

"Absolutely, you won." Roland nodded without hesitation.

Such a straightforward attitude made Ashes feel a bit surprised. She'd thought that Roland was going to argue and had not expected that he would admit this result.