The punch stopped a hair from the boy's nose.
Jax's hand had closed around Astrid's wrist, and the suddenness of it left the young noble frozen mid-bow. Whatever charm he had strolled over with evaporated clean out of him. His mouth opened, shut, then opened again.
Then a trembling, terrified apology scraped its way out. "I... I'm sor... I never, I only meant to—"
Jax saved him from embarrassing himself any further. "Leave."
As the word landed, the boy turned and started backing away, eyes still glued to the pair of them like a man retreating from a sleeping bear. Jax spoke up one more time.
"And a piece of advice. Spend a little less time polishing your etiquette and your charm, and a little more learning to read a room. The pretty manners won't count for much if you can't tell when the woman in front of you is one wrong word away from rearranging your entire face."
Astrid's anger snapped toward its new target. "Let go of me."
