"So, I've heard," Estefan remarked, his gaze settled on Frejlurd, who stood before him wearing an expression of utter defeat which was something the Baron found less satisfying than he expected.
Frejlurd said nothing. His silence spoke volumes, painting a picture of the disappointment he harbored within himself.
He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do as all he could think of was to simply accept his failures as the capture of his subordinates were his own failure as he was their Commander.
Frejlurd at that moment only thought about the punishment he could receive since he already knows how brutal the man he was standing before.
Estefan leaned back on his couch, voice calm. "Do you truly believe this was your fault?"
With his eyes lowered, Frejlurd replied softly, "Yes, my lord."
Estefan let out a short laugh. "I always thought you carried the confidence to reshape this city... yet here you are, crumbling because of your subordinates' failures."
