Chapter 3: Lydia, The Delectable Lady.
Night.
Theodore mansion.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
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"She might not be a noble" Conan whispered, he sat on the stairs, elbows on his bent knees, with his hair falling messily on his eyes, as though he just engaged in a brawl.
He had been sitting here waiting for the lord to come back in for some minutes now, so he brought out the pressing thought the second he saw Theodore.
"I thought so too" Theodore countered.
His reply made Conan frown, and Theodore smirked knowingly.
"Then what is she then?" Conan is curious as he didn’t get to know her because stepping out to shut the gates as the lord had requested he had found the coachman who dropped Lydia off attempting to leave without her, so he got himself busy.
"Something pure and delectable" Theodore replied, picking up the cup she drank from earlier with a dangerous smile on his face, his index circling the rim of the cup.
Conan had been with the Lord from the beginning and they had travelled wherever together, he was his only friend.