Witnessing such a scene from the arms of the man holding her, Flossie Wright couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, her suspicion of his identity deepened.
"What's wrong with her?"
Rowdy Brightwill was disinterested, putting his hands in his pockets as if he was just casually asking.
"One of your soldiers?" Although the man included Rowdy in his question, he directed his words at Drake Easton. His every action showed complete disregard for Rowdy.
Being ignored once again, Rowdy Brightwill would have to be a fool to believe the man had forgotten him. He gritted his teeth harshly, rage smoldering in his eyes without reason.
"Yes." Drake Easton looked at Flossie Wright, whose complexion was somewhat pale, and nodded.
"I'll take her to the medical room." It wasn't until Rowdy Brightwill moved closer that he saw Flossie Wright's feet, covered in fresh blood. The more he looked, the higher his brow furrowed, and his face turned increasingly unpleasant.
