Clint's eyes widened in disbelief.
A man stood behind a bent-over maid, gripping the edge of his bed—the source of the shaking. The woman looked back at Clint with a startled expression, her face flushed and full of panic.
Clint shot up to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?!"
The maid gasped, clearly shaken. "Cl-Clint! Y-Your Highness—please, I—I didn't know—"
The man behind her barely glanced over his shoulder. "If you're jealous, you can always join—"
Bang!
Clint kicked a stool across the room, cutting him off.
"Get. Off. My. Bed." His voice was low and furious.
The maid quickly pulled away, trembling as she tried to fix her clothes. The man, still smug, raised an eyebrow.
Clint stepped forward, eyes cold. "You have ten seconds to get out before I make sure you crawl out instead."
The man hesitated, then cursed under his breath and stepped back. Without another word, Clint pointed to the door.
"Out. Both of you."
