Roman's brows drew tight, seeing the darkness in Estelle's gaze.
But she dismissed him, looking back at the maids. "I want it comfortable. No more than that. Make sure it's lavish." Her fingers brushed lightly against the armrest as she spoke. "I've had a stressful few days, and I'd like to settle in as soon as possible."
The maids hesitated one last time, their eyes darting to Roman for approval. Then they turned and hurried off. The soft echo of their footsteps faded down the hall.
Roman exhaled, dragging a hand briefly over his face before looking back at her. "If this is you trying to get back at me—"
"Get back at you?" Estelle cut in, turning her chair slightly so she could face him fully. Her brows lifted, incredulous. "For what, exactly?"
Roman opened his mouth, but she didn't give him the space.
"You think too highly of yourself, Roman," she continued, her voice calm but cutting. "The world doesn't revolve around you."
