C39 Let me worry about that

IRA'S POV

"I'm sorry," I immediately apologized. "I got lost."

I met the harsh gaze of a man who wore a black, flowing gown, with his hair packed in a bun and a grotesque expression on his face as he looked over me.

Whoever this man was, he didn't look pleased by my apology. He turned to the others with a commanding aura around him