She met his eyes, grazing her fingers against the shallow scratches. "Who is Mizra?"
Calmly, he parted his lips. "My watch. I am quite happy you have found it after I found it missing this afternoon while I was re arraigning your wardrobes. I would love it if I could have it back, my lady."
She met his cool stare with swollen satisfaction. "Do you miss her? Mizra? Did she give this to you?"
He paced over to her, softly speaking, "Yes. Could you be so kind to return it, my lady?" He offered his hand.
She bobbed her crossed legs, raising the watch horizontally out of reach. Her smile grew as she assumed control. "Tell me, do you love her?"
He stared, straight-faced. "May I have my watch back, Lady Erina?"
"Answer me and I'll hand it over. Do you love her?"
He was quiet.
"Well, I hope you don't, because I am going to have her found, and have her name and reputation burned into the ground. She'll wish she were dead and it would be because of you."
No warning or hesitation, she tossed the watch to her feet, and before he could react, she jammed her foot atop the metal backing, cracking the glass with the heel of her foot. "Go now. Find your sweetheart, and hold her close. You'll be the only thing she has left."
Her words were sizzling with mean spirit, but he stared at her foot, unaffected.
"You may seek employment elsewhere, but good luck, because from here on out, your lucky clovers are dead. You will never work in the domestic occupation, and I will make sure of that," she spat. "Now run along, before I request someone to escort you out---."
"--Lady Erina." He cut her off. "Earlier, you never allowed me to give you the letter from your parents."
"Why are you still talking to me?" She investigated his cold, impassive face with a snarl. "I am done with you."
He turned away, his distant gaze landing on a food service trolley cart. His gaze examined every detail of the modestly sized cart, from the trolley wheels to its two transparent glass doors and glistening mercury sliver flat top. Even from the slight distance, he could still see the mass of steaming untouched tea cups packed in rows inside and on the flat top of the cart.
"Lady Erina." Sluggishly, he walked over to the service cart. The flat top shook, and the rows of fragrantly smelling tea cups jittered, circles forming on their amber colored surfaces. "My continued employment is not up to you." His fingers coiled around the handlebars of the cart, his reflection running along the reflective sliver material. "Now, do you care for some tea?" He rolled it over, stopping the cart in front of her.
"Excuse me?" She pressed her back into the bone of her chair as if pushed back by surprise. "Are you to ignore everything I say?"
He pushed the cart slightly over to the side, allowing space to stand in front of her. "Tea?" He lifted a cup of tea, closing the distance. "Tea? Your request for tea was never fulfilled."
"I don't care for tea!" She slammed her fist on the armrest of the chair. "I told you to leave! I want you to leave!"
He cordially smiled. "No."
Her eyes bulged.
"You're getting quite heated. Please, drink some tea and settle your nerves." In a collected and calm manner, once again he offered tea.
"Is there water in your ears, lowborn? Do you not hear what I'm saying?" She was at the boundary of an ear-splitting banshee shriek.
"I heard you clear and fair, my lady. But I don't think you heard me. You can not fire me. So, cease your hissing and roaring, shut up, and have your tea."
The crease of her eye twitched, the tiny oval-shaped scar on the corner of her eye caking up between squinting eyes. "Hissing? Roaring? Shut up?" Her nose crinkled; her lips tugged so far upwards it could have torn her contorting skin. "You didn't just say that to me." Her eyes twitched again.
"Do you have water in your ears? I think I said what I said, my lady," he said, watching calmly as the horror visibly consumed every square inch of her narrowed eyes, creased nose, and twisted lips.
She was at the thin precipice of wanting to maul him. "You." She smacked the tea out of his hands. Her hand darted out, snatching a tuft of his shirt as she forced him close. "You," she seethed, inching him closer. "You will forever regret what you have done." They could have bumped noses, or her eyes could have burned through his skull.
Not deterred or frightened, he leaned in even closer, their lips almost meeting, and in one clear certain voice, he replied, "No. I will not." He pulled back, breaking from her grip.
Shock pierced her.
Her eyes grew to saucers.
Her mouth parted wide.
He had said no with bold certainty.
Confusion rammed her hard.
She couldn't think that he could possibly be serious.
Was the man insane?
Truly, truly, insane?
"You've just said no to me." She breathed slowly, gawking at him. "Are you mad?"
Unfazed, he looked at her and then turned his sight to the tea cart. He lifted up another cup, offering it to her. "You should enjoy some tea. It's not good to be wasteful."
She snatched the tea cup from him, splashes landing on her lap. Without hesitation, she chucked the warm, steaming liquid into his face.
He remained still; the liquid raining down. His face was emotionless as hot tea trickled through his hair, crawled down his cheeks, and soaking through every fiber of the fabric of his uniform suit until it clung closely to his body. But even so, he remained still, frozen as heat pulsated on his skin.
"I think I get why you keep offering me tea. You are thirsty yourself," she tauntingly ridiculed. "Tell me, would you like some more tea? There's plenty more." She reached for the adjacent tea cart, her hand stretching out for another cup. The moment she did, however, he placed his gloved hand atop hers.
"Lady Erina," he started, "I'd like to make my request now, you should stop while you're ahea---."
She reached for another cup and tossed it into his face. "Drink."
One seemed not be enough, so she went for another one. There was still heat and steam to it, but she didn't care. "Look at this wet dog." She peered at him watching as he stepped back, straightened his spine, and slicked back wet hair. "Why don't you bark for me? Or do a little trick, pet?"
"My goodness," he said, sighing. "A trick? You want a trick?" He leaned back towards her and placed his hands on her chair's armrest, laughing as he inclining towards her.
She narrowed her eyes. Laughter? Laughter? She found the sound of it maddening. "You laugh as if something is funny."
He laughed again. "There is. You are. Do you pay attention to your surroundings or the people in it?"
Her face was cooking. She could not believe she heard such happy chuckles or the arrogance in his tone.
He went silent, water dripping from his head and onto her lap.
She scoffed in his silence. "You really don't seem to recognize your position in these lands. I will always be a Sutherton, and you? You will always be an unseen, unimportant man arranging wardrobes, keeping track of linens, and lusting after places and things you'll never have. Inside of these walls, you serve, and outside these walls, the world will remember that you serve."
Another chuckle came, and the corner of her eye twitched. "Why are you laughing?!" she shouted, more shocked than angry.
"Haha." He laughed again, casually knuckling the corner of his raised lips. "Oh, goodness." He sighed and then smiled.