Andrew's straightforwardness made Francesca scoff. She mocked, "You didn't even bother to greet me first? You're so unsophisticated."

Despite her annoyance, she slid an elegant box across the table to Andrew. He opened it, confirming the presence of a twisted root nestled on silk, then stood to leave.

"Wait," Francesca called out. "You've got what you wanted. When are you going to treat me?"

Andrew replied frankly, "Just set a time. But I should warn you about the treatment. I'll need to lift your dress."

Francesca froze. "Lift my dress? What do you mean?"

Andrew explained calmly, "Your condition isn't ordinary. It's more severe, which I'm sure you're aware of."

Francesca's face flushed as she realized the implications, her gaze a mix of embarrassment and anger.

Ignoring her reaction, Andrew continued, "To ensure a complete cure, I'll need to perform a minimally invasive procedure on the… affected area. Understand?"

Francesca gritted her teeth. "That's hardly appropriat