In the office on the top floor of the Magic Tower, where clouds drifted past the window, Astiel sat leaning back in his chair, tapping the desk with his fingertips.

Guest.

He placed the name on the tip of his tongue and pronounced it slowly as if rolling it around. The corners of his mouth rose slightly.

You'll be arriving sooner than I thought.

A single document was spread out on the desk; it was the financial report of Guest's family.

There was no sympathy or pity in his eyes as he scanned the scale of the debt written in red ink.

There was only the quiet conviction of a man who had confirmed something satisfactory.