Ba-dump!
Nero's heartbeat quickened for a brief instant, uncertainty flashing across his crimson eyes as he wondered what kind of command the Ice Queen would demand from him this, he had lost the game.
Khione, sitting elegantly on the edge of the couch, crossed one leg over the other. Her expression grew colder—icy and composed, like the unapproachable CEOs in stories who ruled their worlds with precision and authority. Her crystal-blue gaze fixed on him, and then, in her usual imperious tone, she gave her order.
"Massage me. Start from my feet."
Her words carried no hesitation—only quiet command. She was like a commander on the battlefield, her orders absolute.
For a second, Nero blinked, caught off guard. Of all things she could have said, this was the last he expected. A faint, amused smile tugged at his lips. So that's the kind of queen she is.
