"So? If you're going to act tough, at least act tough the whole way through! Everyone's saying the Three Trials didn't bother you, 'cos that's what you want them to think, isn't it? Are you really going to drop that act now?" Ameilia said, not backing down, but not exactly retaining her cool either. She'd gotten so worked up that her cheeks had gone red, and a few strands of blonde hair stuck to the sheen on her forehead.
"Ameilia, please…" Pauline begged, but the fiery little Serving Class girl – she was at least a head shorter than Oliver – wasn't backing down.
"Ameilia, that's enough," Blackthorn said quietly. "You'll get yourself in trouble if you speak any longer. You're right – he is mean." She hung her head languidly. It was so clear to Oliver that she was merely putting on an act, so painfully obvious, that it made him want to drive his head through a wall. He was incredibly late by this point.
