The way she stared at me, shock etched openly across her face, almost tempted me to smirk deliberately just to watch her blood boil further. I restrained myself, though I could not deny the flicker of amusement stirring beneath my calm exterior. I was surprised too, but far more curious to see how she would perform when cornered like this.
She rose slowly from her seat, hesitation evident in every movement, her eyes darting briefly toward her brother. His jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscle twitched beneath his skin. I found myself enjoying it more than I should. The way he hated me was deep, raw, and royal, the kind of hatred bred from wounded pride.
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