"Isn't the traitor you?" Lance countered sharply, "You think that committing suicide would avenge Flora?"
Celia suddenly looked up, her gaze intensely fixed on Lance.
But Lance remained indifferent, calmly returning her stare.
The two of them locked eyes, neither willing to back down, as the pressure around them dropped to a nadir.
After what seemed like an eternity, Celia finally cracked a smile.
"Forget it, you suspect me, and I suspect that the traitor is you! There's no point in this back-and-forth." She clapped her hands, rising briskly to her feet.
"The person you met last night was the exiled elder princess Evelyn, right?"
Lance's words abruptly halted Celia's steps, "You really knew, it seems we both hold certain secrets."
"Indeed, indeed."
Their conversation ended on an unpleasant note, apparently without consensus, but in reality, they had both managed to probe some information from the other.
