'Damnit…!'
Alistair felt deep rage swirling within him.
Although he had resolved the situation politically, he still felt a burning feeling of hatred within him—one that wouldn't go away no matter how hard he tried.
He truly despised that nameless slave.
That cursed child!
'I thought Amara was simply using him as a tool to get one up on me, but then… I saw how she touched his cheeks as they left.' His mind was in disarray as he remembered that scene. 'Could it be? Could she actually—?'
No!
That was inconceivable!
Amara was a noble lady, one who was considered a great talent within many noble circles.
She deserved someone of considerable status.
Someone like him!
No, he was even superior to her.
That meant she had to pick him over some worthless trash like a nameless slave.
'But I don't like how this makes me feel. She favored the slave too much and personally attended to him right after, instead of leaving him with the servants. It's unforgiveable…'
