Though the sun had not yet reached its zenith, it was already beginning to reveal the heat of the southern sun. Leif clenched a thin wristband tightly in her palm, yet her face was as pale as if she had just been hauled out of icy water.
When Leif saw the word “player,” she instinctively glanced at Natiaveda beside her. Perhaps her expression had been too strange. Misunderstanding her intentions, Natiaveda assumed Leif wanted her to leave, so she guided her horse to the side and said considerately:
“I’ll ride ahead and wait for you. You two talk first.”
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