Blasphemy!
This was utter and complete blasphemy!
How could he say such things?
This was a frenzied blasphemy against Oriane, against the Holy Scripture!
Grove felt his temples throb as a mixture of fear and offended fury burned in his chest.
He subconsciously wanted to tighten his grip on the boy's arm—to teach this "cargo" and his wild talk a lesson, let him taste true pain, and make him understand what could and could not be said!
But... his bloodline.
Carlos's words echoed in his mind again.
"Beings above the clouds," "bloodline," "maggots in the gutter"...
Grove's mouth fell open. He looked up at Carlos's back, hoping the lord—a man of noble birth and proper education—would offer a sharp rebuttal. Or, at the very least, show the appropriate anger and contempt, branding the shocking statement as utter madness.
