I was furrowing my eyebrows because I was worried about you." I scoffed softly, lowering my hand from my face to look at her with absolute, unfiltered sincerity.
Thomas slowly stood up from his kneeling position, his upright posture returning, though his sharp features were still completely covered in a look of total, uncomprehending shock. "Worried... for us, Lady Irene?"
"Yes, you giant, stiff-necked gargoyle," I shot back, a small, genuine smile finally softening my lips as I used the exact metaphor Mary had used during her laundry sorting.
Thomas's ears immediately turned into a specatular shade of crimson at my given nickname to him as his eyes darting toward Mary in a flash of pure embarrassment.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I fixed the two of them with a steady, protective gaze.
