Gloria stood behind Javier, her expression perfectly composed, but her thoughts were simmering.
Ugh! The young master is a prince! Why does he need to listen to what this shithead wants?
If he doesn't want to help his own people because of his stupid pride, just leave him.
If it were me, the moment he hesitated, I'd have walked out.
This shithead should be prostrating himself on the floor, kneeling in front of the young master, begging for mercy and help.
He should even kiss his feet to ask for forgiveness.
Ugh! Why does the young master even bother to help someone who can't make up his own mind?
If it were King Garius, I'm sure this Garzin would already be flat on the floor, shivering, while the King stood over him, looking down with that cold, unreadable gaze.
Gloria's fingers tightened slightly at her sides, her smile never wavering, but her eyes held a sharp, protective edge.
