Of course, she was angry.
I'd also be a bit pissed if I were in her shoes.
"No," I said, keeping my voice steady. "There was no fighting."
Flogga nodded once and continued stirring, but the way she dipped the ladle into the pot made it very obvious she didn't believe a single word of that. It wasn't confrontational—just that quiet, almost motherly acknowledgment that she knew there was more to the story.
"Hm. Just asking," I said, ensuring my tone was neutral. "Did she, by any chance, mention why she was angry?"
"No, she didn't," Flogga replied, then added under my breath, "If she did, then the perpetrator must've been someone capable of shaking the heavens."
"Zarah's not one to talk much about what's bothering her," Flogga said, her tone even as always. "But I can always tell. It's in her eyes."
I paused, the edge of curiosity still tugging at me.
"Oh? And how did her eyes look when she got back?"
Flogga didn't answer right away.
