Inside the wrecked living room, a woman was pointing at a butler with her daggering eyes. An outsider might perceive this as a master who was reprimanding her servant. However, the truth was more serious than that.
Graff was caught off guard for a second before composing himself, "I'm sorry m' lady did I say something wrong?"
"Clemora what's wrong with you?" asked Biane with the look of a sister that would lecture her little sibling.
Clemora didn't pay any heed to her older sister's question. Her eyes were fixated on the head butler of the family. She waved her hand violently while saying, "Enough pretending traitor!"
Her words made Biane averted her gaze to the old man that accompanied her childhood. She instinctively took a step back while listening to their conversation.
Graff couldn't help but stutter a little bit, "T-there might be some misunderstanding m' lady." Though he was accused he still maintained his professionalism.
