I can practically hear a record screech after Empress Katya speaks.
My eyes flit down to Linette, who looks up at me at the same time then stares at the ground. She looks wounded, a thousand thoughts going through her head. Linette looks whiter than a ghost, a vein of shock difficult to conceal flashing through her eye. My gaze narrows on the familiar stick on the floor, but I manage to keep myself from uttering a word.
But it's obvious when the reason clicks in her head: her body lowering itself closer to the carpet in defeat. Of course, there was no battle to begin with. As a servant, she did not have any grounds to complain.
"I don't think that would be appropriate, Mother," I say lightly, forcing myself to take another bite of the pastry. It tastes like sawdust in my mouth now. The abominable reed stick taunts me on the ground, begging me to throw caution to the wind and strike Katya across the face with it.
