Liszt was utterly bewildered, thinking of Rein's last words before dying. Maybe he should slip away, as he sensed a heavy killing intent in the room.
But fate had other plans as Doringger had his high-end establishment equipped with doors that automatically pulled shut, effectively sealing him inside.
Liszt was about to explode. Opening the door and leaving now would definitely get him killed by this woman!
He had no choice but to continue.
Liszt asked, feigning calm.
Dreya stood with her back to him, not responding for a long time, the silence was deathly still, lasting about ten seconds.
"You shouldn't be here anymore. Time's up. You should go, let me be alone for a moment."
Her tone was quite flat.
Liszt, being the ultimate wise guy, understood that although he didn't know what had happened, this woman was in a particularly bad mood. She had been waiting for him, he was late, and things were likely at a tipping point, one wrong move and she'd explode. He didn't dare leave.
"Alright then, before I go, I have something to say. I want to apologize for what happened the day before yesterday. I didn't know the owner had changed. Theoretically, we wouldn't normally rob a single woman, it seems uncivilized." Find the newest release on NoveI[F]ire.net
Liszt spoke with utter seriousness.
Perhaps it was a foolishly absurd logic, the phrasing not making much sense, as breaking in and robbing is not within the realm of civilization.
Only then did Dreya turn sideways to him.
Liszt's throat bobbed a bit, seeing the mad woman's makeup smeared, she clearly hadn't been well earlier. He then noticed the room had obviously been meticulously arranged, although the floral arrangements and settings had all been wrecked, the excess arrangements were apparent, the ground covered in a snow-like layer of petals half a finger thick.
Good thing he didn't slip away, or he'd have been killed instantly.
Dreya stood up, trying to step down the stairs but was stopped by something, leaning against the piano stand.
"On the way here, I encountered the drug dealers I offended last month. It's nothing serious, just delayed me a bit."
There's the art of explaining at work.
Dreya's lips moved slightly, wanting to speak but stopping.
Liszt merely pointed to his chest, signaling her with his eyes.
Dreya looked puzzled, still not understanding.
Liszt pointed at her and then at his own chest.
Only then did Dreya realize the strap on her dress had snapped on one side, although it hadn't completely fallen off, it was at about thirty degrees north latitude.
She quickly employed emergency measures, fastening it with energy threads.
The misunderstanding was cleared, and fortunately, no one intercepted and killed her while waiting, giving her a better reason for being late.
Dreya, unsure if she was having a fit or what, suddenly blurted out this statement, immediately regretting it after.
Liszt barely held himself together, managing to stay composed. A regular person might be completely dumbfounded and voice a stupid opinion, but others in society have faced harsher judgment than yours, it's a universal concept that doesn't change one's prejudices, merely seen as a ploy to lighten the mood. This wasn't the time for jokes, he decided to probe.
"I knew the day before yesterday."
Liszt responded casually.
"And... you have nothing to say?"
Dreya yearned for an answer.
Liszt caught her eager look, a truly mature approach. If he came, it meant mutual affection; if he didn't, it was all over, though the process was a bit tortuous. Even with the delay, there's still a chance to mend things, just keep it normal.
"Uh… on my ship, some crew members, they are pirates, the literacy rate is quite low. But they like listening to stories read by the few literate pirates, content is pretty twisted. Elves, Dark Elves, Yisu people, and... vampires, among others, there's quite a variety. I actually enjoy listening to it, honestly I'm just a pure sensation seeker."
Liszt was subconsciously utilizing Emperor's Skill.
"Oh my God... what am I doing, none of this is important. I need to give you a new bandage immediately; your wound has reopened."
Dreya hiked up her skirt and quickly walked down the steps.
Liszt indeed saw blood seeping from his hand.
He took off the already loose shirt fabric, Dreya tore off a section of her dress to re-bandage it.
The distance between the two closed in.
Logically, someone born in the year 2469 of the Holy Spirit Calendar wouldn't easily cry and whimper.
Yet Dreya's tone had an indistinct hint of choking.
"It's me who told the werewolves to inform you, whatever happens I'll be here waiting for you. I had decorated it very well, prepared for a long time. The flowers... were supposed to look beautiful... I was supposed to look beautiful too... I'm sorry."
Every mirror led to that emerald labyrinth, fishing out the drowning stars, at this moment, any gemstone became counterfeit.
Liszt felt his heartbeat quicken.
The scent of her hair and the shared warmth between their fingers.
In the midsummer sunshine, time no longer gnawed at the cavities of age; it stood still.
Roses shed their thorns, and the brambles returned the chains, fire pardoned the ice.
All grand voyages, anchors, and dreams' wreckage, submerged in the depths of her pupils.