Jolthar leaned back again, the faint smile returning to his lips. It was the kind of smile that offered no reassurance, only a reminder that he was always a step ahead.
"Don't worry," he said smoothly, his tone almost playful but with an underlying seriousness. "Just tell me the truth. I won't do anything… yet."
Her breath caught for a moment, her uncertainty palpable. But Jolthar didn't press further. He simply waited, his calm, observant nature leaving her to squirm under the weight of her own thoughts.
His sharp eyes caught every subtle shift in her demeanour—the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, the nervous glance that darted toward the door before she forced herself to look at him again.
"No, young master," she said, her voice uneven. "Why would anyone send me? I'm just a simple maid; I am not capable of doing such things."
