Chapter 61. Kiss on the Lips

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It was over a week ago when Grand Duke Delta received news.

The Crown Prince—Dimitri Von Arthur—had found the last traces regarding the robbery of the Book of Revelation.

This had made Grand Duke Delta's blood race.

He wished to get revenge for what had happened three years ago! Seeing that his birthday was coming up, the Grand Duke purposely hosted a birthday banquet for himself—even though he usually wouldn't. Slowly but gradually, he lured the fish to catch his bait... then reeled it up to his trap!

Why didn't any of the guards stop Gira from entering?

They could tell that her identity was fake—her black dress was enough for any noblemen and women to tell that she was not who she said she was. However, pertaining to Grand Duke Delta's orders, the guards allowed her inside... she was trapped in a manor where all the Royal Knights awaited for her.

It was over for this thief.

"LET GO OF ME!" Gira screamed, trying her best to tear her hands away from the Knight's sharp grip. Instead, it remained firm on her wrist.

"We'll detain you for the robbery of Book of Revelation three years ago, and also the attempt at murdering Grand Duke Delta." Azalea spoke calmly.

Meanwhile, a head of golden locks shone brilliantly in the manor.

"Oh my, Grand Duke Delta." An elegant hand dressed in white glove had been placed out. Dimitri smiled, his handsome face akin to an endearing moon amongst a starless night. "You are dirty. Shall I go help you change clothes?"

Seeing the spilt wine over his white suit, Grand Duke Delta sneered. "Yes, Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince."

He whipped his old head back, glaring at the struggling "noblewoman".

"Take good care of my guest," Grand Duke Delta huffed. "I want to make sure that she spends a... great time in prison." He turns away, heading upstairs to change his clothes.

"NOOO!!!" A high sob wailed across the dance floor. Gira thrashed against Azalea's heavy grip, her figure flailing in multiple directions. However, no matter how strong she pulled, she could not escape from the white-haired handsome knight.

Gira gritted her teeth, "...you..." What kind of training did the male lead go through to become so strong now? Three years ago, when we faced off against each other, he was never this strong...!

The reincarnator wanted to cry. How did this happen... things weren't supposed to be like this.

"Nineteen! Help me, Nineteen!" Gira screamed.

Azalea's eyebrows scrunched, a trace of disbelief flashing before his eyes.

"Don't fall for her bluff," by his side, a companion knight offered, "We already know that she is the last robber and hasn't made any contact with other individuals! There is no person known as 'Nineteen' that is associated with her."

Azalea wore a small smile. "You're right..."

Meanwhile, Lucilline blinked his eyes innocently.

It turned out that this birthday banquet was merely a trap for Gira, whose traces had already been found by the Crown Prince.

But... He grew hesitant. What is the relationship between Gira and Nineteen? Does she know of Farrah? Or perhaps... she knows of the demon Nineteen that Farrah mentioned?

"And to think that I was preparing so much for this night." Lucilline stopped thinking about it. He gently caressed his own hair, a trace of helplessness winding on his lips. Percival couldn't help but pause, his gaze falling onto the black-haired nobleman's helpless face.

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