"It's all right."
Lord Feng didn't get a clear look at the woman's face, but her voice was lovely. It was the soft, lilting dialect of the Wu region—gentle and sweet, like listening to a Suzhou ballad. Many girls in Tristone spoke just like that.
"I'm sorry."
Rosalind Green glanced up for a moment before quickly lowering her head again. She wasn't used to speaking with unfamiliar men. With a slight bow, she turned to leave. She still needed to find her son and settle a score.
"Wait a moment."
Lord Feng grabbed Rosalind Green's hand but, realizing his gaffe, quickly let go, afraid he had scared her. Seeing the alarm written all over her face, he felt he had been far too forward and hastily invented an excuse. "Excuse me, could you tell me where to go for hospital admissions?"
