Lucian's eyes instantly narrow into dangerous, predatory slits. The temperature around us seems to drop another five degrees just from his sheer, suffocating presence.
Morvain practically folds himself in half, bowing so deeply his spine might snap.
"N-No, Your Highness! The Imperial trades are conducted legally and completely transparently under the Empire's laws!
Rightfully, as per that demon girl—"
I don't say a word. I just shoot him a single, deadly glare. It is a look so sharp and unforgiving it could cut glass.
Morvain loudly gasps, the words dying in his throat. He physically recoils, his eyes wide with panic as he frantically corrects himself.
"A-About Mirael!" he stammers, his heavily ringed fingers trembling. "She... she is just an orphan! A poor little soul whom I graciously gave shelter and an income! I simply kept her and gave her a job in my manor to keep her off the streets!"
