"It is my fault for not teaching them better, my Lord," Serayu said.
How shameful!
At nearly two thousand years old, she was the eldest present, a legend of storms and solitude. Yet in this moment, she was forcefully reminded of the wisdom and compassion that radiated from their Lord!
What a compassion that extended even to the smallest, most fragile of lives… How majestic! How noble! Truly, the bloodline of the First, Isaiah himself!
"Please forgive me, Miss Bessa," Jenggala said, turning to her with intense seriousness. Even if he was over two hundred years older than the Lord, he would never dream of contradicting Oathran. "I was wrong to assume a blessing and step over a… a dishonorable line. It was ignorant."
"I-I… I'm not… I'm just… surprised…!" Bessa managed to stutter out, her hands fluttering helplessly. "P-please don't worry too much…"
