"Mr. Anke really is sharp. Now that I think about it, I suppose I did have that kind of expectation."
Fu Qian's pointed criticism had clearly left the Sanctum members at a loss. Under several icy stares, the atmosphere suddenly grew tense.
But Fivell was, after all, seasoned and steady. He not only signaled for the others to stay calm, but even nodded at Fu Qian a moment later, readily admitting that he was right.
Of course, that didn't mean his gaze had lost its chill.
Fu Qian had made his position clear in the most efficient way possible. He had no interest in pointless conversation, and there was no need to make a pointless show of concealing their feelings, either.
"I understand what you mean. But I still have one question. Since you seem to have a clear idea of what might happen, why didn't you take the chance to escape just now?"
Fivell gestured toward the Sanctum Lady.
"Although I don't think you would have succeeded, it should have been easier than it is now, in any case."
"Simple. I have no interest in expressing sincerity, but I came to express my gratitude—to Lord Prout."
Fu Qian had encountered this kind of openly hostile scrutiny far too many times to feel even the slightest stir of emotion.
Express his gratitude...
Amira, standing nearby, looked utterly bewildered by this bizarre answer.
The order wasn't going to let Anke leave. No matter what she thought of him, she could still understand the logic behind that.
And yet Anke had known this from the start, but had still forced his way here just to thank Lord Prout?
She could hardly understand why he was thanking him at all. Prout was the one who had kept him trapped in the nightmare—
Was