You know, Miss Merchant can't always maintain such a gentle demeanor. She knelt in front of Ben with a docile expression, lowering her head obediently. If not for occasionally sneaking glances at Ben with her lively eyes—she might resemble a noble daughter.
Of course, her disheveled and dirty clothes covered in tear marks were a different story.
Sharing a similar state was a real noble daughter, Antitina, clutching her bomb-shredded shawl with one hand, her face covered in dust. She lowered her head in silence, looking a bit nervous.
"Ben, I..." Romantic noticed the slight ease on the young man's dark face and hurriedly tried to explain. However, before she could finish a sentence, she was silenced by his glare.
She could only dejectedly lower her head again.
