"Miss—" The bodyguards stepped forward.
Tears suddenly welled up in Neve Sherwood's eyes. "Martial King, what are you doing?"
Drake Trent didn't loosen his grip just because she was crying. "I've met Claire Sherwood. While you've mimicked her appearance, figure, movements, and voice very well, some of your minor habits are different. You're Grace Sherwood, aren't you?"
His hand quickly moved to her face. Using his Power, he could feel a thin mask covering it.
Neve Sherwood suddenly started laughing. "As expected of the Martial King…"
She stood up and leaned against Drake Trent, her finger tracing a line across his chest as she said coquettishly, "Are you going to expose me, Martial King…?"
Drake Trent looked down at her, then seized her wrist and pushed her away.
"Did you steal the Trent Family's porcelain jar?"
Neve Sherwood shook her head lightly. "That wasn't me. But I know where it is."
"Where?"
