A Sheltered Healer is Useless?

Xion's fingers tightened on Allen's shirt. His already pale knuckles turned white as bone against the dark green fabric. His heart pounded so violently in his chest that he feared the sound would echo through the corridor.

"H-Hide me," he barely managed to whisper. His voice cracked like fragile glass. Wide, desperate eyes nailed to Allen's back.

Allen remained silent. He could not answer, not yet.

His eyes were locked on the archduke, whose aura seemed darker than before. An oppressive presence was so suffocating that Allen felt relieved Noxian was not there to witness it.

And Lady Nazia, too. She detested anything unsightly. As for Berry, the old man was likely the only one calmly studying the lifeless corpse with an unflinching gaze.

From years of serving His Grace, Allen had come to recognize the subtle signs of anger, or perhaps, this time, it was merely an annoyance.