Arguing

DEL MORINO

Dinner had been cleared minutes before I heard the sound of footsteps, heavy footsteps of the guards and something else which was light and the door was pushed open.

I sat in my usual seat,

draped in furs and arrogance, as

two of my guards practically

shoved her forward. Layla

stumbled, catching herself before

glaring at them. I love that. If given the chance she would smack him on the head.

She looked

worse, thinner than she

ought to be, her cheekbones

sharp and her eyes ...