An upside-down train was speeding along the rocky layers toward Hope Island. The window of the second carriage was open, and the salty, damp sea breeze lifted the hair that covered half of Margaret's face, revealing the ferocious, narrow scar underneath.
Sitting beside her was her maid, Jina, who turned to look at her mistress. "Governor, I really don't understand. The mage from Icha Island—why do you have to personally deliver him?"
Margaret stared into the darkness outside the window as if she hadn't heard, only responding after the maid asked for the third time. "Just do your job. Don't ask about things you shouldn't know."
A trace of confusion flashed across Jina's face. She always felt that the Governor today was different from the Governor of the past—even the scar on her face seemed a bit softer.
Margaret continued to look out at the darkness, but it didn't last long. The world outside gradually grew brighter.
