"Young Master, is it truly okay?"
For some reason, Yena's foot kept tapping the horse-drawn carriage's floorboard, her expression restless.
Her act as a spy was a masterclass. However, of all the territory she had to tread, it was governed by a notorious one in the same line of work, even though it was now a thing of the past.
Looking at Yena, I opened my mouth to ask, "What are you worried about? Because I might say a word or two that your identity has been exposed, which would inevitably lead to you being disposed?"
Yena gulped; there's nothing wrong with what I said, just facts knowing the heart of the Golden Crown.
Ravelle was a perfectionist and tended to be uneasy when something was not going her way. Different from any merchant throughout the continent, she prioritized stable connections rather than mere monetary gains.
'She's probably dealing with the backlash caused by Ires Queen Deadwood. That's a consolation, I'd say.'
