"Why? Why, Mother?"
Tristan felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her, her mood rapidly cooling.
In her view, the human who was mistakenly identified as the prophesied child daring to ignore and escape the wedding with Mother should be captured, have their hands and feet cut off, and be turned into a dried human stick.
Yet Morgan insisted on capturing them alive, which was a bit of a letdown.
As Tristan thought so, and voiced her thoughts, Morgan simply gave her a look.
"I want them alive."
The repeated words, accompanied by a gaze as cold as Absolute Zero, drained all color from Tristan's face.
"I, I understand! Please don't be angry, Mother...!"
Not daring to anger Morgan further, Tristan quickly took the command, thinking of nothing else.
"Why won't you let me go, Your Majesty?"
Woodworth, however, started to make a fuss.
"...Do you think I don't need anyone to guard me here and want to leave me to go fight, Woodworth?"
