45: Ryann
Ryann
Annys was taking her breakfast when Ryann stormed into her office. Tallia trailed after her, but Ryann had caught the glazing of the woman’s eyes, and knew the assistant was already talking with her mistress.
“Have you eaten yet?” Annys said, holding a slice of campere in one hand and brushing juice from her chin with the other. “I have plenty.”
Ryann’s stomach rumbled. “I’m not hungry.”
“A drink, then? Tallia, fetch our guest something, would you? She doesn’t look in the mood for a sociable libation, so maybe straight water. Chilled, though—we’re not savages, are we?”
Tallia turned and left the room, but not before smirking at Ryann.
Annys put the piece of fruit down on her plate. “And now that we have the room to ourselves, maybe you can explain why you’re here.”
