The Marquis, his face pale and his pride completely shattered, bowed his head so low his chin touched his chest. "Yes, Mother. As you command."
"And the bamboo!" the Grand Madam shouted, remembering the original offense. "Have the estate's laborers uproot every last stalk of it! If I see a single leaf of this foundation-destroying weed tomorrow, I will have you flogged, Marquis!"
"Yes, Mother," the Marquis choked out, thoroughly humiliated in front of his entire staff.
Heena buried her face into her grandmother's shoulder, her shoulders shaking. To the parents and grooms, it looked like she was sobbing uncontrollably.
But Samuel, standing just a few feet away with his razor-sharp guard instincts, noticed the slight, rhythmic movement of her shoulders. She wasn't crying.
She was silently, violently laughing.
*My wife is an absolute demon,* Samuel thought, his heart swelling with so much dark, intense adoration he thought it might actually burst from his chest.
