As the ship sliced through the waves, the Mercenary Queen took a moment to herself. She retrieved a pipe from her storage ring and lit it, the faint smell of tobacco quickly mingling with the salty sea breeze.
She leaned back against the pole of the mast. Her eyes fluttered closed, the soft glow of the pipe's ember lighting up her face as she exhaled a long plume of smoke.
While the man just laid on the deck and within seconds, he was snoring.
The Knight Commander, who had been silently observing the small group, clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. The sight of the Mercenary Queen resting so casually, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of their situation, irritated him.
The man, sleeping on the deck as if it were any other day, didn't help matters. But despite his irritation, the Knight Commander said nothing.
The Head Butler was near the Duke holding an orb.
