Arlecchino took in every look of surprise and confusion on their faces.
She had never been the sort to care what others thought, nor did she owe anyone present an explanation.
Still, as her gaze swept over the young faces around her, something stirred within her.
These "children" were still at a sensitive age. Letting their thoughts stray in the wrong direction would hardly help their future development.
And so, with considerable patience, Arlecchino was willing to elaborate on Lyney's "startling" words.
After all, to an ordinary person, the scene had been rather strange.
A handsome young boy calling the striking woman before him "Father" would set anyone's imagination running wild.
Especially the "guests" attending this party. Their disgusting expressions and the way they looked at her as one of their own genuinely irritated Arlecchino.
"As the current head of the House of the Hearth, 'Father' is merely the respectful title the children there use for me. It carries no other implications."
Having said that, Arlecchino turned her gaze toward Gravik with an indifferent expression, as though she had finished some trivial task.
Her gaze pierced him like an icy blade, utterly devoid of warmth.
Under that stare, Gravik felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured into his heart. A chill shot from the soles of his feet to his scalp, making his entire body tremble.
He needed no further thought to understand the situation in this room: his meticulously crafted plan had utterly failed.
Gravik, who had been prepared to sacrifice himself, now grew afraid. As death truly approached, overwhelming terror engulfed him like a tide.
He did not want to die. That was the only thought in his mind.
Gravik knew that as long as he survived, he could always try again.
As long