Before Asher's carriage could even roll away, a figure instantly appeared in front of it, making the coachman halt the carriage abruptly.
Before the figure could even utter a word, he was instantly surrounded by the five guards and Lyra, all of whom had already drawn their weapons and stood in a battle-ready stance, prepared for combat without hesitation.
The figure they surrounded was wearing a butler's uniform. They assumed he might be a servant of the palace, perhaps a real butler. But at the end of the day, that was still a huge might. There was a chance he could be an enemy in disguise, and none of them were willing to take such a risk lightly.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" Lyra's voice rang out. The soft, gentle voice she reserved for Asher was nowhere to be found. Her tone was ice-cold, matching her sharp and unreadable expression.
