Translator: Pai_
Turan stood still and asked himself.
How on earth did he recognize that woman as Haroon Zahar?
No matter how many tis he mulled it over, no clear reason ca to mind.
It was just that the mont he t those eyes, he had a hunch.
That she was the old man he had t not long ago on the border between the Gray Zone and the desert, who had calmly told him the story of his life.
Perhaps noticing that their eyes had t for about a second, the old man of Aravion, who had been sitting quietly, looked at Turan.
His wrinkled lips twisted, and an astonishing statent ca out.
“Do you want her?”
“Excuse ?”
“I asked if you want that woman. Your gaze seed quite heated."
As long as she wasn’t killed, it didn’t matter what was done to her, Badal’s muttered words, along with the look in his eyes and expression, were steeped in deep malice.
As if he were desperate to tornt the woman in front of him sohow.
‘What on earth.......’
What had happened between those two for him to harbor such a degree of animosity?
There was no trace of the hollow, indifferent appearance of the past in Badal’s face, now full of exhilaration.
The current him was nothing more than a villain desperate to tornt a helpless woman.
No, even more troubling was that he appeared far more vibrant and lively than before.
A few more years had passed, so he really shouldn’t have much ti left to live, and yet he had suddenly beco this healthy again.
Such thoughts were brief, as Turan once again beca Faol and received Badal’s question with bluntness.
“The stench is too much for that.”
“Well, they say the noses of Zahar nobles are particularly keen, don’t they? Though not to that degree, it is quite unbearable for as well. Go ahead and wash her.”
At the unexpected order, Turan was about to answer, “Yes,” right away, but then closed his mouth briefly before giving a different answer.
It was a calculated move, thinking that if he acted too obediently here, he might arouse suspicion, considering he was rely a subordinate of Talis.
Above all, he too was a noble of the House Zahar, too noble to take on such a lowly task without question.
“That’s not my job.”
“Isn’t it your job to serve the head of house? Even though it's in such a miserable body.”
Badal spoke mockingly and lightly nudged the woman’s head with his shoe.
From the way he spoke, it seed that even Faol, Turan’s disguised identity, was aware that the woman was Haroon.
Perhaps even things like the true identity of the gods and the matter of soul possession as well.
Indeed, if that weren’t the case, there was no way he could have entered the house of the head so easily.
Who would let soone in, not knowing what kind of words might co out of Badal’s or Haroon’s mouth from the inside?
Besides, even for Talis, it would have been inconvenient to have his confidant act without telling him anything.
After all, you couldn’t rely on a possessed body for every little errand, like delivering food to Badal or today’s simple chore.
"......I understand."
Showing open displeasure, Turan drew a sarcastic laugh from Badal, who waved his hand as if to tell him to go.
Despite the alliance, the rift between the two forces still seed unresolved.
Judging by that behavior, it was likely that the side holding the initiative among them was the Monarch's faction.
What thod they had used, Turan would have to begin investigating from now.
Turan untied the restraints binding Haroon, then grabbed her by the nape of the neck as if handling sothing filthy.
Even so, perhaps unable to overco his physiological instincts, the woman choked and gasped as her neck was caught by her clothes.
“Excuse .”
“Good work. When you return her later, tidy up here as well.”
***
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