The Seventh Miss, Di

His eyes were sharp, his sword eyebrows raised, his eyes deep and piercing. Between thick lashes, his jet-black pupils resembled a pool of ice water, emitting a coldness that could almost freeze a person solid.,Under the crimson backdrop, her snow-white arms were tinged with a faint blush, inspiring endless fantasies.,"The King, of course, is good. It's just that he's tired," her voice was soft, but crisp like a yellow oriole singing, tender and gentle, "Since the King is asleep, let's discuss anything else tomorrow."。