"Of course, Valen. Your daughter 'specifically' asked for my help, after all," I remarked, allowing the faintest hint of sarcasm to lace my words.
Count Valen's face twisted in irritation, his sharp features tightening as he scowled at me. It was a look I had grown accustomed to over the years—a mixture of disdain and barely veiled hostility. The Valen family had always seen the Drakhans as rivals, a sentiment that had been passed down through generations. To Valen, every move I made, every success I achieved, was a direct affront to his own standing. The fact that his daughter, Elara, had sought my help only served to deepen the resentment.
"You're as insufferable as ever, Draven," Valen snapped, his voice laced with bitterness. "I'm here for my daughter, not to listen to your arrogance."
I merely raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by his outburst. "Then perhaps you should focus on what matters, Valen, rather than wasting time on petty insults."
