Alexandra sat quietly in the carriage, the journey from Krezia weighing heavily on her. It was such a night. "I didn't mean to smash it on his head," she spoke softly, not looking at the man beside her but gazing out at the darkening landscape beyond the window.
"It's alright; I don't mind," Silverstein replied. He didn't actually mind her breaking a glass on the fool's head; in fact, he would have relished the sight of her scraping the shards across his face. "He deserved it." Alexandra nodded at his words, though guilt gnawed at her.
She had never been so harsh to a human. Deep down, she knew she wasn't in her right mind during that confrontation, even though she had thought she was. He had poured her wine first, hoping to blind her to his faults, but she couldn't help but feel sympathy because of the blood. She loathed the sight of blood.
"I'll apologize to him later," she murmured, resting her head against the cool glass.
