Sansa POV
"But I'm not done cleaning," I tried to protest, following her.
She didn't answer or give any body language sign to make me feel relieved.
It only made me more anxious we Panic curled tight around my chest. I wondered how long I had been out, but my eyes darted to the floor after Lucien's floor—it was already immaculate, every corner neatly arranged, every detail accounted for.
It had been taken care of, including the room given to me.
There was no excuse this time. And blaming Lucien for holding me back felt pointless. I only had one option left: plead for my life. Another beating was something I didn't think I could survive.
"I'm sorry… please, forgive me. You can double-task me, I'll do every chore in the palace… just give me another chance," I begged, my voice shaking. Still, she remained silent.
My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat a thunder in my chest. Sweat prickled under my skin and I fought the urge to burst out crying.
