"Caw—caw—caw—"
The cawing of crows echoed incessantly in the room as I struggled to open my eyes, finding myself back in the room of the red-haired man.
My mind was still foggy, unable to make out what was in my field of vision. The red-haired man sat by the burning fireplace, engrossed in a thick book. Above, the crow flapped its black wings, occasionally emitting unpleasant cries, but its master seemed unperturbed.
I shook my still heavy head and met a magnified face before me—it was Klaus's face.
His narrow, bright golden eyes squinted beneath thick eyebrows. Klaus no longer appeared as if he was in a deep slumber; he seemed to have shaken off his unconscious state.
Below his straight nose, his slightly reddened lips moved as if saying something.
What was he saying? I instinctivel
