"This Melody Cloud, from her looks to her speech and manners, there's not a single flaw to pick out. She's almost too perfect, making her feel unreal." Leah spoke of Melody Cloud with a hint of disdain, clearly not fond of her.
Delphine chuckled softly. She hadn't met Melody Cloud, but anyone who could win Bessie Leclair's favor was certainly no ordinary person.
As the two were chatting, Griffith Squire returned. The man's flawless, handsome face was bruised, his lip was split, and his clothes were a bit disheveled—he looked utterly defeated.
Leah burst into laughter at the sight. "Griffith Squire, someone hit you?" she teased.
"You don't know a damn thing. This is nothing—there's someone who got hurt worse than me." Griffith Squire grinned smugly and threw Delphine a flirtatious wink, only to tug at the wound on his lip and wince in pain.
"You hit them?" Delphine's gaze shifted slightly, though she didn't name the person outright.
