CLVII. He Transforms to Profit Others

Liszt scrutinized Meredith intently, as though he wanted to see right through her.

He mulled over in his mind, with her wielding a huge axe and a Riding Spear, she must surely be the more aggressive party, a picture already forming in his head.

When she spent the night with Goria, this raven-haired woman would most likely be donning the "Emperor of Rome."

Liszt swallowed hard, as if standing on the Prague square at dusk, tossing wishes into the fountain, with pigeons silhouetted against the setting sun.

Liszt hardened, his fist.

How he wished he could join in!

Meredith detected Liszt's subtle facial expressions and felt extremely displeased, concerned for Goria's safety.

As she carefully replayed his words, Liszt actually knew that Goria did not like men. Could the truth be as he described? Goria was fine right now.

But it was all just what he had claimed. Even if she didn't believe it, now a captive, she had no way to verify the truth.