The angry little spitball was making him laugh on the inside. He was careful to keep it off his face, which he showed to her as natural, and expectant, as she grumpily took a seat in a huff. She set herself into a delicate pose, as though she was a prim creature on display.
She asked him what he wanted from her, and he considered her for a long moment. He wanted to teach her a touch of humility, she who spoke of spending blood so easily, without consequence. “I want you help Zee in her chores for a week, once we are finished camping out here.” He said, and grinned. That was likely to set the backup on both participants. Ee would have a fit, having a royal princess helping her with slave chores, and perhaps Pesto would learn a thing or two. He could only hope.
Bloodletter
