"We have some… doubts." Lilior says, taking a deep breath, and yep, just as Amethiel thought, they were having "some" doubts just before the ball.
'Oh my fucking—'
The irritation hit him instantly.
It was sharp to the point where his head actually started aching.
Oh, Amethiel was ready to rage. He could feel it rising in his chest, sitting right at the back of his throat, ready to spill out.
He was about to open his mouth, already preparing a string of profanities, because he was sick of this.
Sick of the doubts.
Sick of the hesitation.
Sick of them acting like he didn't know what he was doing.
However, Hyacinthe immediately covered his mouth, cutting him off before he could even get a single word out.
"Mhmf! Hmhp!" Amethiel still tried to speak, his brows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes at Hyacinthe, glaring up at him with clear annoyance.
"Calm down. Let us speak. Don't throw a tantrum yet, we just need more reassurance," Hyacinthe says seriously.
