Crevan’s smile makes me sick. Maybe it’s the fact I know what he did to my mother and how twisted he is. Yet, I can’t help but wonder: what else has this crooked man done?
“Let's go get you cleaned up,” Crevan suggests.
What exactly does he mean by cleaned up? Besides, as far as I’m concerned, no one is going to care what I look like since my image is already tarnished. Murderers are usually covered in blood.
Bitterly a laugh escapes my throat, “I like what I’m wearing.”
“Well, you look like a disgusting mess.”
This is true. I smell horrible, the clothes are rancid, but he’s the reason I’m covered in the blood that I am.
I tilt my head, getting to my feet, I approach the bars. “You care about that; why?”
“The Royals are important people, and since you agreed to go with them- I’d li
