This is an automatically translated description
Kell never noticed that Red London left a subtle smell on his clothes. However, after his travels, some people told him he smelled like freshly picked flowers. Some said tulips. Others said lilies. Chrysanthemums. Peonies. But for the King of England, it was always roses. Kell was glad that it was a pleasant smell, even if he couldn't smell it. He could distinguish between the smells of Grey London (smoke) and White London (blood), but Red London always smelled like home to him.