Her annoyed sigh distracts him from tossing another vase against the wall. He stands still for a second, composing himself before turning to face her. "Yes, dearie?"
Her disapproving glance travels over the destruction. "I just cleaned here," she chides.
Yes, chides.
It still amazes him that she will rush in where everybody else is too terrified to tread.
"I must remind you this is my castle."
"And I, that if there's something you love, it's your things," she says with the exasperation of knowing he'd been lying. "Be more careful, then."
He sneers. As if carefulness has ever helped.