Anette took a few seconds to understand that Victor was actually walking away.
There was no hidden irony in his answer, no attempt to bargain, and much less the embarrassed reaction of someone who had refused the Crown Princess in front of hundreds of vampires.
Victor had simply taken Rakshasa by the arm and started walking, treating her request with the same importance he would give an inconvenient conversation in the middle of the street.
For someone like Anette, who had grown up surrounded by obedience before she even understood the meaning of the word, it did not feel like a simple rejection.
It was an affront.
The disbelief vanished from her face.
Anette's foot struck the marble.
The floor cracked.
She appeared behind Victor before most of the guests could follow her movement, her fist shooting directly toward the back of his head.
There was no intention of playing around in that blow.
