The carriage jolted violently over the cobblestone road, the wheels crunching over potholes with a dull 'thunk' sound.
Liz lurched forward, supported by the priest, and leaned weakly against the carriage wall, her face as pale as paper.
Edmond's Holy Throne Robe shimmered with a cold light in the dim carriage, his eyes fixed on the opposite side, gaze sharp as a knife, "Last night—did nothing really happen?"
Liz's fingers unconsciously clutched the hem of her skirt, which still bore the remnants of wetness from an accident.
She slowly lifted her head, disheveled strands clinging to her forehead, yet her gaze was unexpectedly calm, "Holy Seat..., if there really was an issue, would you not have noticed it?"
Edmond's pupils slightly contracted, this submissive believer became calm at this moment.
She seemed ready to face whatever was to happen next.
"What did you dream of?" Edmond leaned forward, the hem of his divine robe draping over his knees.
