Chapter 91: His Royal Cleanliness
"...Janitor?" Nolan’s sculpted brows drew together, irritation cracking his princely composure like thin ice over a lake. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
Shoot, now I’ve done it. I kept my face carefully blank even as my pulse quickened. Honestly, though, who told him to be so infuriating?
He got what he deserved.
Yet the creeping energy in the room reminded me of something - princely tantrums tended to be lethal. So...
What should I do now?
The silence stretched between us, thick enough to choke on.
"Did you just suggest," Nolan’s voice dropped to a velvet-wrapped blade, "that I, a—" He caught himself just in time, his jaw tightening. "That someone of my standing would—"
"No, esteemed guest, I can explain!" I blurted, scrambling for a foothold in the conversation.
Urgh... brain, do something!
Wait. What if—
What if he likes being insulted? Should I try—