"Have you heard of the Blood-Heaven Massacre?"
Amon's brow arched. "The what? No, why? How is that relevant to—"
"My father was a General of renown in the army. After years of service, he retired and got a seat at the council of the federation." She began, interrupting him, her voice laced with sharp intent, her previous shrewdness gone.
Amon wanted to interrupt, but for some reason, he felt his interest and curiosity piqued.
"More specifically, he was put in charge of all matters related to convicts and rehabilitation processes."
She then paused. Slowly, she turned toward Uriel, who was silent and stoic, looking at her with an expression as neutral as it had previously been.
Yet as she met his cold ivory gaze, a shiver couldn't help but run down her spine. Not of fear, but of pure excitement.
A mad smile threatened to creep back onto her face, but she suppressed it.
