"Father—" Maxwell started, trying to offer some semblance of a plan, but he never finished the sentence when a massive, bone-deep rumble shook the estate. It wasn't a thunderclap; it was the sound of the front gates being pulverized, brought down to the ground by the hands of one man.
The floor beneath their feet vibrated so violently that the paintings on the walls tilted.
"What is this nonsense?" The Marquis yelled, unable to make sense of what was going on in his home, and then the study door burst open. The Head Butler stumbled in, his face as white as a sheet, his breathing coming in ragged gasps.
"Master! Master, he's here!" the Butler stammered, his eyes wide with genuine terror. "He broke through the main gates and is creating chaos! He's... he's coming through the grounds and pushing back the knights!"
"Calm down and speak to me. Who is coming? Who is making a ruckus in my home, not fearing the wrath of my house?!"
"The Duke," the Butler said, and the Marquis froze.
