Racheal's hands trembled at her sides. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart thudded loudly as Kyle's sharp gaze bore into her.
She wanted to say something—confess, explain, beg forgiveness—but the words wouldn't come.
Before she could muster the courage to speak, the head priest stepped forward with a serene smile plastered on his face.
He extended his hand toward Kyle, a gesture seemingly full of admiration and respect.
"Young Lord Kyle. I've heard of your many feats. Your bravery, your defiance against the odds—it inspired me. Gave me the strength to serve as I do. If you would allow it, I would be honored to shake your hand."
He said, voice smooth like silk.
Kyle raised a brow at the unexpected offer but made no move to refuse.
Instead, he offered a cool smile and extended his hand. "Is that so? Well, it's always nice to know someone appreciates hard work."
Their hands met.
