The servant barely managed a bow before she scrambled out, her eyes wide with terror. I settled back on the throne, my gaze fixated on the grand doors at the end of the hall.
It had been a while since I had last summoned her. Long enough to let her think she might have been free of my presence for a time. Long enough for her to begin to settle, perhaps, into a sense of routine and calm.
How amusing it would be to shatter it.
The minutes crawled by, each one stretching as I pictured her reaction. The unease, the spark of defiance, that little glimmer of fear she could never fully bury. The thought alone kept my fingers tapping against the armrest. She knew what she was—mine, a possession—but it was that defiant streak, that stubborn pride, that kept her… entertaining.
