In his office, Zephyr stood rigidly behind his desk, its surface buried in documents. A white cloth obscured his eyes, but the direction of his gaze and the intensity of his aura left no doubt—he was scrutinizing the woman before him, dissecting her every move.
The mysterious woman, in contrast, stood completely at ease, one hip cocked as if this were a lounge and she was waiting for a drink. A cynical smile played on her lips, as if she were enjoying his suspicion.
Zephyr broke the silence, his voice cold. "I want to know one thing. How—no, from whom did you obtain that Ticket?"
"It was given to me by someone," the woman replied airily.
"Who?" Zephyr pressed.
She pretended to think. "Hm… that's a secret."
