Threatened by the lie-catching staff, Haruki wanted to keep the meeting as brief as possible. However, the priestess on the other hand had some different plans entirely. Crawling out from beside her white gown, were two dollish servants who usually carried the excess of her dress. Puffed up with excessive powder, they appeared in the same images as that of their master.
"There's no need to fret duke, my skin, my eyes, and even my hair they're all but the fruit of a rare condition," resting her chin atop the back of her hand, she beamed an eerie smile. "It's not infectious so you have no reason to worry."
"I'm not worried," the staff screeched like glass shards brushing against each other.
The sound was so loud that Haruki could feel it grinding against his teeth and even Serena's servants had to cover their ears to escape the awful screeching.
"Can you stop that?" Haruki requested, glaring right at her.
