Avery Stuart fell to her knees with a thud, her head bowed and her face swollen like a pig's, making it hard to discern her expression.
"Madam, it was all my fault, it has nothing to do with the Master. I took advantage of the Master being drunk and helped him into the room. The Master was already so drunk he was hardly conscious..."
A pitiful woman, even at this point she's still trying to make excuses for Daemon Lancaster, taking all the responsibility onto herself.
Last night, only she knew how enthusiastic the Master of the Lancaster Family was. If she wasn't used to laboring and strong, she might have already been pinned against the dining table by the drunken Master.
But even after being helped into her own room, Daemon Lancaster's enthusiasm did not wane. Despite his age, the old man's frenzy eclipsed that of any young man.
