"All you ever do is deceive me."
Jeanne had long been immune to Horn's sweet words, but she noticed Horn withdrawing his thoughts and not actually leaving.
The glass wine cup reflected a greenish-blue wave of light. She tilted her head, and a strand of black hair fell from her temple.
When Horn was looking at Jeanne, Jeanne was looking at Horn.
Compared to before, Horn was different now.
Compared to eighteen-year-old Horn, Horn had now reached the age Catherine was then, and Catherine was already over forty.
But similar to Catherine, once Horn entered his youth—perhaps due to the male Witch bloodline—he never aged again.
Catherine looked like a twenty-seven or twenty-eight-year-old woman, while Horn still looked like an early twenty-something college student.
The flickering candlelight illuminated Horn's weary yet serene face.
He kept hair just over his ears, exposing his wide forehead, and his once sun-tanned skin had become significantly paler.
