Carlos paced around the room, his movements jittery with a restless, manic energy. He couldn't sit still. He walked to the window, looked out, then walked back to the bed, his hands constantly moving, adjusting his cuffs, running through his hair. He looked like a man who had just won a grand prize but was terrified someone would take it away.
"You should have seen him," Carlos said, his voice dripping with glee. "You should have seen how wretched Derek looked today. When he came out to tell the servants... he was pale. He was shaking. He looked like a man who had lost his soul."
He stopped pacing and turned to Ashlyn, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.
"He ultimately humiliated the Thompson family," Carlos declared, gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm. "His wife, a criminal? A suicide? A woman who ran a brothel? The shame will stick to him forever. The King will never trust him again. The court will laugh at him behind their fans. He is finished."
