Moving past the table in Lucy's room, I settled onto her bed, my palms flat against the sheet.
Returning to the velvet chair, Lucy sat and directed her attention my way. "What do you want?" She asked.
"Our job is to guard Lady Beatrice at the event. Why aren't you ready?"
Lucy glanced away, her eyes settling on the mirror opposite her. "I'm not attending," she replied.
"But—."
"You can't tell me what to do!" Lucy's head snapped up.
Retracting my hands from the bed, I shifted my position. "Lady Beatrice's safety is in jeopardy. What's more important than your duty?"
With exaggerated calm, Lucy slowly rose and walked to the door.
'Click.'
"Get out!" Lucy yelled, pointing at the open door.
Her lips were clenched tight, and veins pulsed on her forehead as she extended her index finger toward the door.
'Thud-thud.'
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "I can see what's behind your mask," I leaned in, "You're begging for me to stay."
"Out!" Lucy shouted.
