"Is everyone here?"
Marquis Luwa, Minister of the Army, maintained a stern face as he handed his cloak and top hat to a similarly expressionless valet who nodded and gestured toward a corridor at the side.
"Please come this way."
Another respectful waiter nodded and led the distinguished marquis deeper into the corridor.
This was an elegant and quiet suburban estate about an hour's drive from Lutèce City, surrounded by railways. The estate boasted three conference rooms, three kitchens, two dining rooms, eleven rooms, a large garden, a wine cellar underground, and a several-hundred-year-old watchtower.
On the surface, it seemed no different from those luxurious estates belonging to the wealthy around the suburbs of Lutèce City; it even appeared somewhat shabby compared to them. However, its modest size had its advantages—for those looking to plan deadly serious matters away from crowds, there was no safer place than this estate's basement.
