A wide-brimmed black hat shadowed part of her face, but her pale, aristocratic features were visible enough—sharp cheekbones, dark, painted lips, and eyes that gleamed with hunger and intelligence. Her smile was not warm, but it was captivating, the kind that promised both delight and ruin in equal measure.
Delia and Ember, her favored subordinates, rushed to her side, bowing deeply.
Cornelia stood before him and observed him for a minute. She could see the red hue around him, shimmering with a low hum.
A smile crossed her lips as she noticed it.
"My lady," Delia began, her voice quick with urgency.
"He resists. No matter how we probe, his mind is… closed. We cannot reach his memories, nor glimpse his soul."
Ember added with frustration, "The only thing we know is that he has been practicing the Origin power—but he speaks nothing, reveals nothing."
Cornelia's smile widened ever so slightly, exposing the faintest glimpse of sharp, white teeth.
