Cassarae's grinding teeth sounded like metal scraping against metal, sparks flying. Red-gold streaks collided with the ground, but instead of catching fire, they sliced right through the floor.
Behind her, rushing, there was a small group of women, but they couldn't seem to keep up at all.
She walked right up to Sylas, ignoring Old Brama and even Elara's giggling. As for Isolde, she only smiled and got out of the way as Cassarae reached forward and pulled Sylas up by his collar until they were nose to nose.
"Do you think you can just treat me however you want? Is that it? Do I look like a pretty little housewife who's going to just patiently wait for you at home?"
Sylas blinked. There was an alarming lack of cussing in her words this time. That… was a problem.
This was about as serious as Cassarae's speech got.
She wasn't just a small bit pissed this time.
