Her dark eyes narrowed, her delicate features settling into a mask of cold, haughty displeasure. She didn't lessen the pressure of her foot by a single fraction. Instead, she looked down at him as if he were an unruly servant who had just spilled her tea.
"What?" Heena demanded, her voice dripping with sharp, aristocratic annoyance.
Samuel could only gasp, his chest heaving as he stared up at her through half-lidded, desperate eyes.
"I am going out of my way to break my own peace, risking my delicate reputation to graciously help you with your little... 'problem'," Heena scolded smoothly, her tone turning icy. "And yet you dare to groan and squirm as if I am torturing you? Do you truly not even know how to be grateful, guard?"
Samuel swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently against his bruised throat.
