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Twenty minutes ago, ten o’clock at night.
Luxury suite, fourth floor, Capital Hotel.
The pin of the gramophone gently lowered, and the disk began to turn, playing a lilting melody that filled every part of the suite. Filomina tied her bathrobe and walked out of the bathroom, her long legs peeking out from under her bathrobe, and her delicate collarbones and fair skin visible under the slightly open collar.
She sat down before the vanity to put on night cream. The mirror reflected her beautiful face and her cascading blond hair, running down her shoulders. She was a sight to behold.
Filomina Ursula, the veiled woman Wayne had encountered in the hotel’s restaurant.
She was a high reverend that the Church of Moonlight had deployed to Londan and a Gold-rank mage. If nothing went wrong, she would become the top leader of the church’s Windsor branch, shouldering the responsibility of expanding Moonlight’s influence in the country.
Why would a Gold-rank mage live in a luxury suite rather...
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