Victor took a step back when the two eerie maids approached him.
"W-what?"
He asked, his voice croaking.
They leaned in, silently frisking his body.
?!
He had no idea what was happening, but under Isolde's withering glare, he was forced to stand still.
Not long after, one of the maids spoke.
"There are no weapons on him."
Ah.
So they were searching for weapons. He let out a sigh of relief, laced with a twinge of disappointment.
Isolde's steady voice rang out.
"What do you want?"
'So blunt'
Victor couldn't help but think. No greetings, no pleasantries. Just a plain, flat question.
"Well... I'm here because I want to talk to you."
"You want to talk... to me?"
"N-no, I mean—yes."
Then he drew in a breath, his expression growing grim.
"I have an offer to make."
Isolde remained silent. Then, she glanced around the high, echoing room.
"This place is too stuffy. Let's talk somewhere more... free."
