"So when you speak to us, you should lower your head, like a proper subject."
Averon's pupils trembled the moment he heard Primrose's words. He had never imagined that a woman—someone he saw as beneath him—would dare to insult him so openly.
He was about to say something, but for some reason, Primrose's golden eyes made him feel uneasy. It felt like her gaze could pierce straight through his skull, locking him in place. For a brief moment, he couldn't move at all.
"Miss, could you tell us where this jerk imprisoned you and the other women?" Primrose asked Evelia, pretending that she didn't know anything.
"T-There…" Evelia raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the west wing. "He locked us up there. P-Please hurry… I'm scared those people will move them somewhere else before you can save them."
