On the couch in the living room sat a pair of Oriental noblewomen.
Facing them was an elderly lady, over eighty years old. The old woman wore a silk suit, her hair was graying, her slightly wrinkled face was full of smiles, yet she gave off an imposing aura.
She held a wooden cane with both hands; the wood was a dark red with exquisite carvings, likely handcrafted and, despite being wood, was quite valuable.
On the sofa to the left of the old lady sat a middle-aged noblewoman, stunningly beautiful, with an excellent figure. She was over fifty, yet her charm was still intact. It was hard to imagine how radiant she must have been in her youth.
The expression in her eyes and eyebrows seemed familiar, but Tracy couldn't recall from where.
The unexpected visitors made Tracy frown. With a glance, she noticed a familiar figure standing beside the sofa.
Mr. Randall!? She was startled, her eyes more perplexed, not understanding what was happening.
