The Ugly Truth

Keith then gazed at the portrait, stammering again, "B— But, His Grace isn't—"

"Indeed, my oh-so-beloved parents aren't there…" She turned around, letting out a peal of a giggle. "But definitely the forefathers of mine are there, glaring at you, isn't it?"

Somehow, he got rooted on the sheen flooring, arching his neck at the portraits once more.

Even Nathalie trembled upon the utterance of Mystique, clearly didn't see it coming with her comment about the picture frames hanging in sophistication.

"Y— Your voice…"

Keith couldn't believe what appeared in front of him still, let alone talking without paying any mind to the consequences she ought to face from doing it.

Mystique parted her lips for a second, then brought a smile. "I didn't mean to hide it…"

"Y—You were able…. To use it— all along?"