"Guess," he said, with an unmistakable smirk playing on his lips, the kind that could either charm a ballroom or start a war. The kind she want out of his face. He was being really smart, isn't he?
Silver narrowed her eyes, straightening her spine. "You were supposed to be in manor, attending to oh-so-important ducal paperwork."
Duke Felicé arched a brow. "And you were supposed to be flanked by at least ten armed men and two women whose probably fainting with stress right now."
"They were being inefficient." he added.
She crossed her arms.
"Hey, they don't get to take credit from how efficient I am in escaping. It's not their fault, I have skills."
He gestured around the crumbling tower dramatically. "Ah, yes. I always forget how the best way to address efficiency is to throw oneself defenseless without any plan how to defend herself even after knowing she was being targeted."
She scowled. "I did not throw myself—"
