Racheal flushed scarlet, her eyes darting anxiously between Kyle and her master, who still looked far too pleased with herself despite the temple around her practically being a ruin.
She quickly stepped forward and bowed her head.
"Please ignore her behavior. She's not always like this. The drink just… helps her think sometimes."
She said hastily, voice tense with embarrassment.
Kyle raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. He was far too used to eccentric personalities by now to be fazed.
Still, the smell of wine mingled with burnt mana made the entire temple feel like the aftermath of a ritual gone wrong.
Racheal turned to her master, trying to maintain some level of composure.
"Master, this is the young lord I told you about. He came here to request—"
"Enough, Racheal. She brought someone into my home. Let her speak for herself."
The older woman interrupted, waving a hand lazily from where she reclined on a half-shattered throne-like seat.
