Lyra shook in fear when I fixed my gaze on her.
The poor lady was probably not at fault here, but I gave direct orders to every noble present that night.
None of them had any business leaking out information about Phoebe's affair to the public, talk less of the staff members of the mansion.
Someone had to pay.
"When you say everyone in the mansion is talking about it, what do you mean?" I queried, dressing up without bathing.
I probably looked like a hot mess right now, considering that I slept drunk last night, but I didn't care.
"Sir, don't you think you need some–" Lyra was probably about to suggest I take a bath or something of the sort, but one glare from me made her swallow her words.
