Velcy's POV
"I'm sorry for being presumptuous, my lord," Virelle said, addressing the dragoness but keeping her gaze on me.
"May I ask who this little girl is?"
Her tone was polite but the curiosity and confusion in her eyes were undeniable. Beneath that, I caught a flicker of pity. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and was fully aware of what had drawn her sympathy.
The jagged scars on my face that marred both sides of my cheeks were a grotesque reminder of my past.
They made me stand out in the worst way and I often invited pity, disgust, or avoidance from anyone who saw them. Even among the other imprisoned girls, I was treated as an outcast and mostly shunned by nearly everyone.
I had grown accustomed to living in isolation without any real friends or confidants to talk my heart out or share my secrets.
