Chapter 284: A Rather Poor Musician
Lyria's POV
A very undignified sound escaped me as I nearly stumbled backwards.
Brayden reacted instantly.
His hand flew to the sword at his waist, the blade halfway drawn before I had even fully turned around. The maids were equally startled.
I spun around.
Duke Valenridge stood there. His lips tilted upward in amusement.
He did not appear remotely concerned by the sword pointed in his direction.
Instead, his attention shifted lazily toward the training grounds below.
"Alistair has a nice body," he remarked conversationally.
I froze at his words.
He continued as though he had not just nearly caused a small disaster.
"Julian's isn't bad either. Though his is more of a scholar's body."
My face grew warm.
For some reason, hearing someone else comment on it made the entire situation far more embarrassing.
"W-what are you d-doing here, Your Grace?" I asked.
