Esther recoiled slightly, the gravity of his words sinking in, yet her grip on his collar did not waver.
All she felt was a cold rush of defiance flooding her face as she pulled back abruptly and delivered a slap across his cheek.
*Slap!*
It was a weak blow, laden more with her bitterness and frustration than with the intention to physically hurt.
Shrugging off his hand, she took a step back, her voice trembling with indignation, "Have you no shame?"
Asher, momentarily taken aback, let her gain the distance. He slowly touched the side of his face where her hand had struck, the faint red mark a stark contrast to his dove gray skin.
His voice dropped to a low, chilling whisper, "Did you just slap your king?"
Esther blinked, the reality of her impulsive action settling in. The regret didn't come from the act of slapping him but from losing control.
