The next few days had mostly been filled with plans to send Misa and Torren to Harthem. Misa couldn’t look Royle in the eye for the most part, and she only ever went to talk to him when Torren was included in their discussion. Even when Misa snuck to the dungeon in between meal breaks, late in the night, and the early mornings to see Hethel, it was through Torren’s assistance and not Royle’s.
For one, she could not trust that Royle would watch out for her during her visits, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to avoid another intimate moment if she was to be alone with him, especially during the dark hours of the night.
Even now, as she sat next to Torren, watching Royle trace a finger across a piece of paper, she squirmed, almost feeling—wanting—that hand along her own cheek.
