Suddenly, the issue of her father and sister coming to the capital felt less important. The issue of two people dear to her was distracting her enough to forget the anxiety momentarily.
Considering the carefulness of the two mages, Leonor had a hard time believing that the wounds from their spar were the normal outcome.
As she quietly sipped the dark wine served with their dinner of steak and vegetables, she couldn't help her eyes drifting between the two men across from her and Desmond. She would politely tap her lips on a napkin afterward and look away.
Considering each time a mana ball would get close to her face and Quinn would direct it away, the scratches on the King's face didn't make any sense. What could have happened to make both of them so intense with their attacking?
