The Demon King's Obsession
“But, mere looking at him, he doesn't seem like someone who could cause terror.”
Lysan jaw clenched tightly. Only if Dyleon knew.
Roman walked to the stage and raised a glass. He took a mic, “To peace,” he said, his voice bellowed in the ball room through the speakers, smooth and rich, like music. “To a future without war.” Then he smiled.
Everyone cheered, including Dyleon, standing beside Lysan, and they took their drink.
Lysan just stood still, looking at Roman, a slight frown visible on his face.
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