A while later, Jane heard movement.George had returned after his bath. He drew aside the bed curtains, gazing down at her with an imposing and cold demeanor.Her gaze shifted to him. He was dressed in sleepwear, his hair untied. His strikingly handsome face carried a murderous aura. He was like a haunting presence that sent chills down one's spine.Facing such a temperamental king, Jane had to remain constantly on guard.George sat down.He turned slightly away from her, his gaze icy and silent. He didn't speak, and Jane remained quiet as well, lest she provoke his anger again.It was eerily silent, like the tense standoff before a battle. Both were testing each other, waiting to see who would break first.Under his piercing gaze, Jane found it difficult to ignore the stifling tension. She preferred directness. If he had questions, he should ask. If he intended to punish her–Suddenly, George leaned in.Her breath hitched, and the blade in her shoe was ready.Fortunately, he
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