Dusk descended, and every household lit up their lamps, illuminating the streets. From the inn where the kings were staying, the sound of a violin could be heard.
Squeak, squeak...
Like nails scraping a blackboard, like sandpaper cutting a tree stump, the sharp and grating sound penetrated deep into the skull, resonating with it.
"Damn! Can you stop playing? Who the hell practices violin in the middle of the night?!"
A window on the first floor was violently shoved open, and the plump and large-eared King Bilgan II of the Empire of Barbarossa stuck out his head, roaring upstairs: "Have you no decency? Ever heard of disturbing the peace?!"
Before the echo of his voice faded, a bucket of cold water poured down on him, splashing his face.
