Arlan stepped out of the bed and straightened his messy bed hair.
"You may go," he said in a clipped tone.
"My Lord?"
Seeing those beautiful eyes widening in fear, his little attendant obviously misunderstood his intentions.
"Since I caused you to sleep on the cold, hard floor," Arlan started with heavy emphasis, "then as your master, I am rewarding you with a well-deserved break. You don't have to serve me this morning. Go rest or do whatever you do in your spare time."
Oriana blinked a few times, wondering whether her ears heard it right. Was this bratty lord showing care for her?
'Is it the effect of the nightmare? Perhaps his brain is not working right.'
Seeing her not responding, the pair of blue eyes moved back towards her silly form. "Along with your legs, did your brain go numb from sleeping on the floor?"
"Ah, no. I understood."
