“Fu.ck,” Tristan whispered when he looked at her. She was nothing like the woman he had seen before. Pale, frail, dirty, and weak.
She could barely keep her eyes open.
“Please! I am innocent, please!” She said. He drew in a shaky breath. His heart racing again. His wound throbbing with increased blood flow, but he could not care less for him now. He opened her chains.
One on her hand, the other on her feet. He examined her hand, bloody and swollen. He would be needing a doctor for her.
She stood up to his command and held him. He grabbed the cloth from his men, standing at a distance, keeping guard for him. The cloth he had put chloroform on. He put it lightly against her nose, making her smell it. As weak as she was, it would take seconds for her to fall unconscious. Her hand fell str
