In front of her stood a guy. He was tall, but less tall than Jean. He had long blond curls that he wore in a bun on his head. Here and there an escaped curl hung down his face. Two bright grey eyes looked at her. His hands were tucked into his trouser pockets as she watched his gaze sweep over her body.
“How… what do you mean?” she stammered in surprise.
“You said,” he said. “I don't need you, Jean,” he raised his voice teasingly as he repeated her words. “So I ask you, what don't you need me for?”
“I… I…” she stammered. She had no idea what to say. “No… No, not you,” she said, stuttering. She turned back to Jean, who had stopped in the distance. He still had his face turned to the palace walls, but she saw his shoulders go up and down, as if he were laughing very hard.
“H-he,” she sai
