“You! Tell me, what did your Master do to my body?”
PRINCE KYANITE’S DEMEANOR as of the moment was something that they knew they shouldn’t have activated.
His aura was more fearful than an executioner; his gaze was like an arrow piercing straight through the soul; he voiced his words sharply that no one would dare lie to his face. He stood there akin to the highest royalty—a King.
Howin’s scarlet orbs couldn’t meet with the prince’s light gold ones as the latter interrogated him. It seemed quite impossible for vampires to be afraid of unarmed humans, but Howin’s voice was trembling when he replied, “He healed your internal injuries that day in the infirmary of White Rose Palace after he healed your external injuries back in the cellar of Cold Blood Palace.”
“Then why are you asking me those bullshit questions earlier?”
“I…” Howin paused, hesitating.
