She had that gut feeling that there was Something wrong about that man. Her years-long training had taught her one thing, to recognize an enemy, no matter how much he would be smiling.
That old man was smiling, and she could tell even without the mask that it was fake. Milena was standing between him and the trapped Blanche, glaring behind her mask. The white coat was one hell of a clue, but she wasn't sure. Why would someone from the Church attend a shady auction like this? What was his purpose?
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the very same question, my Lady," said the old man.
Milena felt her anger on the rise. She wasn't anyone's Lady when she didn't know whom she was speaking to, and certainly not in the mood to play some mind games now! Behind her, B
