Rosalind looked apprehensive as she watched the woman who was crying in front of the Count. Long blond hair, beautiful golden eyes, and a slim, tall body. The woman looked like someone in her thirties even though she made herself look older because of her darker-colored clothing and makeup.
How could the Countess be this young? The Count looked like someone in his fifties, perhaps even sixties. She did not want to judge anyone at all, however, she never expected the man's wife to be so much younger than him.
She looked at the Duke who was standing not that far away from her. Despite the fact that guards were barring Rosalind from approaching the Count, the Duke looked amused. He looked like he was simply there to watch a show.
Rosalind's eyes landed on the Count. He was too pale, his face looked like a piece of paper.
"Please leave the room I will—"
"No!" Countess Marchiana Caldarera interrupted her. "You have no right to tell me what to do inside my estate! Guards!"
