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.,Saying that, one side overturned the wooden chair, and the person naturally fell to the ground.,"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."。