Oriana remembered the tales of the elderly, warning children about how cursed people have red eyes. Normal people would not be that scared, but Oriana was not normal. As a person who could wield magic, she believed there's truth in the folktales and legends of old.
'Not to mention, this man appeared in front of me out of thin air!'
The man was in his mid-twenties, tall with a cold and intimidating appearance, as if pride was deeply ingrained in his bones and all are mere ants before him. His attire was that of an aristocrat, and his figure was commanding even with him not moving. He was so good looking that he did not seem like a real person, but a sculpted masterpiece.
A normal person would likely shiver under that cold gaze.
More than that, there was something about him urging her to stay away from him. It was an instinctive repulsion, similar to what she felt from Arlan, that noble brat.
She had to figure out her escape route—and fast!
