Delphine followed his gaze and noticed a shocking bruise blooming on her wrist.
Her skin was too fair, too delicate—any bit of pressure would leave a mark.
She looked down without speaking, a sudden wave of disillusionment and coldness washing over her. The man who had bullied her was still kneeling in the Yeager estate's courtyard. When she arrived earlier, just the mention of Ignatius Leclair's name had scared him senseless.
This was the benefit of power. She had been on the receiving end of power's oppression before and knew all too well how it felt.
Ignatius saw her remain silent, her expression carrying a hint of detachment. Though she was physically close to him, it felt as if she was miles away.
Without a word, the man, his gaze dark and brooding, led her into the lounge.
"I'll go find some medicine for you. Stay here and don't wander off." Ignatius looked at her, his eyes an unfathomable abyss.
Delphine nodded, her gaze drifting elsewhere, gazing out the window.
