Considering his tone, it was hard for Arabella to do anything but nod in response and mutter, "Understood,"
The look on her face pleased Silas even less as the unhappiness she exhibited to see him brought memories of their first ever encounters, back when the young woman still shuddered at every motion he had made.
"How did dancing practice go?" Silas broke the stifling silence between them.
"Very well, Master," her eyes remained on her hands where she flicked her nails together at times and clutched at the fabric of her gown at others.
"I don't appreciate being lied to," very calm, but ice cold his timbre was.
At those words, mouth a little agape and heart ready to pounce, Arabella's gaze snapped upwards without ever connecting with his.
Her lips trembled and moved apart before reconnecting again a mere second after as though attempting to push sounds through but not the ghost of a whisper traversed.
"I told you to speak your mind, haven't I?" he paused, "Your true mind,"
