The man's eyes were full of fear as he looked at his friends. I recognized his face as he was one of the workers in this manor kitchen.
I deepened my nails, and forced him to talk. "Tell me!"
"I…." This man cowardly avoided my gaze. But without him telling me, I knew where this came from.
"Is it Ingmire?" I asked and my suspicion was right when I saw something had swift in his eyes.
I smirked evilly, I didn't need him to say anything more. He would be dead. "Why don't you join your friends?"
"I.. I'm sorry!" He quickly jumped from the bed, kneeling before me. "Forgive me, miss." His voice was wavering enough that I'm afraid he might peed in here if I threatened him more.
I was splattered in blood and it stank, I didn't need more disgusting fluid in my room.
As an assassin myself, I still hated the stench of blood so much.