Conmonds' smile stiffened, and a barely perceptible panic flashed through his eyes.
"Good boy, Martina is just an ordinary young maid. If you want, I can find you several prettier ones, okay?"
Onions shook his head and glanced at Orkot beside him, his brow slightly furrowing.
At this moment, the expression on Orkot's face wasn't the anger Onions had imagined. Although he looked unpleasant, upon closer inspection, there seemed to be traces of panic in his eyes?
Onions didn't think too much about it; he just continued in a deep voice:
"Orkot is debauched to an extreme. No maid he has taken a liking to has lasted more than two months! Martina has just turned thirteen this year, and her mother, Maid Daisy, just passed away last month..."
Conmonds' face grew even uglier, and he forced a smile:
"I know everything you're saying, Onions, but after all, she's just a maid with lowly blood..."
Upon hearing "lowly blood," Onions' eyebrows instantly raised.
