"It's been a while, Margaret. Come and talk with me." Charles returned to his easel and began to paint again.
Margaret's face showed a hint of struggle before she finally approached.
"What happened to your face? Who did this?"
Margaret didn't answer, her cold expression an attempt to steer the conversation back to business.
"Governor Charles, do you feel the favor isn't enough? As long as I recapture He Fang, all other conditions can be negotiated."
Charles shifted his gaze from his painting to observe Margaret standing beside him.
He took the drawing from his easel and handed it to her. It was a pencil sketch. The background depicted the deck of a ship, where a young girl was handing food to a slave beside her—it was the day they first met.
The eyes of the stunningly beautiful girl were filled with innocence, pure as an angel.
"Actually, compared to the you of today, I think the old you was better, and not just in looks."
