Third Person's POV
The faint sound of muffled sobs of the previously moaning woman echoed for a few seconds and the sounds of clothes rustling echoed before fading into silence.
The young man wiped his damp face with the back of his hand and then turned to the artificer with a weary indifferent expression.
"What is it now, Master Argos? Have you finally agreed to let that little Amelia girl accompany this young master for a night?"
A muscle twitched in Argos's jaw.
His fingers curled into a fist and for a fleeting moment, he entertained the thought of punching the arrogant brat's smug face through the screen.
Unfortunately, that was not possible. Not now and not even in reality, if he wished to keep his head attached to his shoulders.
Master Argos adopted a humble expression and his tone was laced with respectful deference.
"You know that's not possible, Young Master Otto.
