Gilles’s face flushed a deep crimson. It was evident that he was on the verge of attacking Damien, causing the guard restraining him to stiffen.
“You are no man,” Gilles hissed. “You are a demon.”
“How dare you insult His Majesty! Have you no regard for your own life?” Paul reprimanded Gilles, shocked by the blatant disrespect shown toward the King.
However, Damien remained unruffled. He watched Gilles with a soft chuckle, a hint of satisfaction in his demeanor.
“I wish to speak to Gilles Watteau in private. The rest of you may leave,” he declared, prompting the group of servants and attendants to swiftly exit the room.
Gilles glowered at him, seething with contempt. “How does it feel to have killed her?” he spat out, his dark eyes burning with hatred and rage.
Damien responded with a serene smile as he sat on his throne, casually crossing one ankle over the other.
