He shifted his gaze away from the candle stand.
Mark Ducas picked up the feather pen from the desk, and with the sharp tip stained in black ink, he began to write on the paper.
As he wrote, cold words continued to flow from his mouth.
"The sooner you die, the sooner I can inherit the Marquis Duca title."
"The sooner you die, the sooner I can plan, and the Ducas Clan won't fall to such a state..."
One symbol after another appeared on the paper as Mark's right hand moved.
Ten minutes later.
Mark moved, taking out a red wax seal from the walnut desk in front of him.
He held it near the candle burning on the stand, slowly lighting it.
The red wax seal illuminated, casting an eerie red glow over Mark's face.
Mark inverted the wax seal, and the burning wax quickly melted.
A few drops of scarlet wax dripped down, precisely landing on the edge of the envelope containing the letter.
He waited as the wax cooled, beginning to harden.
