With long, urgent strides, Rowena walked away from the carriage, into her house. The scowl on her face made it known that she was angry and no living soul should come near her, especially the servants who were currently scrambling away as soon they passed by her in the corridors and hallways or ducking their heads as they walked towards her.
Rowena didn't care about those slaves, what she cared about, what she wanted, she wasn't getting it and she didn't know for how long she could tolerate it.
The duke always treated her like she was air; ignoring her, Rhea's constant insults and jibes, and now... Rowena breathed in, trying to calm herself but failing terribly.
She walked into her room, slammed the door shut, and leaned against it, feeling the weight of her frustration bearing down on her. Her room, elegantly decorated with luxurious furnishings, was a stark contrast to the turmoil she felt within.
