The girl's dark, vacant eyes stared intently back at him. The soft mountain breeze rustled her neatly tied, long black hair, yet Crescent remained frozen, words caught in his throat.
…There was nothing to say.
Vera alternated her gaze between Crescent and Aiden, her discomfort with the silence palpable. Still, she was astute enough to realize that the issue had been resolved.
"You've heard what was said, First Young Master. Now, we will take our leave," Aiden declared.
"...Very well," came the reluctant response.
The humiliation of being outmaneuvered by a fourteen-year-old girl clung to Crescent. Forcing the matter further would lead only to disgrace. And yet, her cutting remark had struck him deeply, forcing him to confront his current state of mind.
With a heavy sigh, he buried his head in his hands, fingers gripping at his disheveled hair before he straightened and exhaled heavily.
"...My apologies."
