The scenery changed. Now, she was in a hallway—most definitely somewhere in her mansion— the usual one she took a strut earlier as though it had the same structure and motif throughout the castle.
Although she turned around when her ears perked up from the familiar thuds.
Supposedly, Arnold should be in his usual rhythm, pacing back and forth. This time and in front of his study room, his steps hastened with loud beats that echoed the hallway.
"What rubbish, son of a whore—! Why hasn't he come back—?! If that fool dares to mark my precious daughter—!"
Arnold threw a fit, the floor froze with a thick sheen of ice, popping out spikes of ice around him. He couldn't stop with the gnash of his teeth thinking about absurd possibilities from his murmurs and enigmatic look.
"That cunning bastard, fucking—like a mongrel beast in heat! Why is it taking so damn long?!" he spat them unfiltered.
