"I apologize, Miss Polly, it's the duty of a guard. I hope you don't mind it."
"Of course, I don't mind...Huh?"
Lachlan Polly suddenly looked up: "You...you speak Chinese very well?"
The man had a delicate mixed-race face, his skin was so fair that the purplish hue of the capillaries were clearly visible. His pair of blue eyes were deep and cold, exuding a kind of aloofness.
However, he was very polite and gentlemanly.
The man nodded: "I know a little."
"Deonte Basil." The man turned to scold the guard who had previously drawn his sword: "Do not be disrespectful to the ladies of the reception team, all of you keep that in mind."
All eight guards singly responded.
Lachlan Polly was shocked.
The man nodded at Lachlan Polly, then walked over and knocked on the door of the Saintess's room, a clear and cold voice came from inside.
"Come in."
The man pushed the door and went in.
