Bab 399: 1,343

"Not a sound, darling. Not a breath."

Aries closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She lowered her head until her forehead was resting on her sweating arm propped on the coffee table. 

"Damn it..." she whispered, refraining from speaking in her head. Abel was listening; he was in her head. He had always been there like a creep who wanted to know everything — even though he had always known everything.

'I'm fine,' she told him in her head. 'Don't worry.'

'I didn't say I was worried.' His voice was cold and plain, low and dangerously magnetic. 'Angry... that is the term.'

'Don't kill Sir Conan.'

'Pray to God, darling, he might listen and stop me.'

'Kill Sir Isaiah, instead.' Aries ground her teeth, apologizing to Isaiah in her heart.

'He just died... oh, he's back on his feet.'