“I would literally prefer to do anything else than this.”
Alios only raised his eyes from the gloved hands Mena had slammed onto his desk to shoot her a withering smile. “Unfortunately I have nothing else to ask of you,” he replied easily, reaching for one of the many stamps by the corner of the table. He pressed it down on the ink tablet and then on the paper, leaving behind a crisp black outline of an eye. “The princess needs new clothes, and you are the only one I trust to accompany her. You have to go with them.”
Seraphina’s eyes darted between the banshee and demon king as the woman appeared to be doing her very best to stare the other man down into surrender from across sides of the desk with frightening intensity. Mena wouldn’t win, that much was obvious and she already knew that.
