"Who are you, and why are you blocking my path? And my guards… what have you done to them?"
His expression was grave, and his tone was accusatory from the moment he spoke. But Nerida was being ravaged by the effects of the drug; just forcing herself to walk out of the mountain range had pushed her to her limit. Her mind was a chaotic mess, and she felt as if her body was about to burst from the force raging within her.
Sweat dripped from her brow.
Her gaze landed on him, full of a determined resolve.
Nerida didn't answer him. Instead, she had already gotten the information she needed from his earlier words. She could tell he was unattached—not yet married, with no lover.
At this, she murmured to herself, "Good. As long as there's no one else."
'If there were…'
'I'd just have to find someone else.'
As she spoke, she had already climbed into the carriage, casually dropping the curtain behind her.
