Before a single maid could drop into a curtsy, Heena raised a slender hand. She didn't break her sharp stride. The fine silk of her skirt whipped around her legs, the fabric clinging tight enough to outline the firm curve of her calves with every hurried step.
"Get out," she ordered, her voice stripped of all warmth.
"All of you, clear the perimeter. I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances. If anyone knocks on my door before I explicitly call for them, I will have them thrown out of the front gates."
The servants froze. A beat of breathless silence passed before they scattered, stumbling over one another. They moved with the clumsy grace of prey realizing the delicate woman before them possessed fangs.
Heena didn't spare the staff another glance. She marched up the stone steps. Her bodice strained against her rapid, shallow breaths, the embroidered corset pushing her cleavage up into a sinful display as she shoved open the heavy oak doors to her suite.
