"Bumpkin," she called to her limo driver who also doubled as many other servants.
"Yes, ma'am?" the green man known only as Bumpkin replied, rushing eagerly to her side.
"I want you to take this plate up to my room," she ordered.
"But, Miss Frost," he objected, confusion clearly displaying across his facial features which made him seem older than he actually was, "I saw what you put on that plate! It's nothing but little pieces of what you just had to eat!"
Her blue eyes flashed with dangerous anger. "Do not question my orders, Bumpkin, or you may very well find yourself at the unemployment office!" Emma Frost snapped.
He knew immediately he had stepped out of line and gulped, stumbling back a step. "Yes, ma'am!" he immediately exclaimed, turning to leave.
"Wait. You'll need this." She extended her hand to him, and he took the offered key. "Return it to me immediately. Do not waste even a second," she commanded.
"Yes, ma'am!" he exclaimed, nodding hurriedly as he turned and literally raced from the room as if he had the hounds of Hell themselves nipping at his very heels.
His eyes darted quickly around his employer's bedroom as he entered the room, carrying the plate on one hand. He saw nothing out of the ordinary; indeed, everything appeared to be just as it always was. Setting the plate down on the dresser, he turned once more to survey his surroundings but could see no sign whatsoever of any one being there or anything having been disturbed in the slightest. He prayed Miss Frost wasn't finally going insane again as he shook his head and left the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
His footsteps sounded away down the hallway, and immediately a blur shot out from underneath the bed. She jumped gracefully up onto the dresser and immediately began to eat the remaining food. She knew not what it was, but it didn't matter. All that did matter was that the food was delicious and it was all hers.
To Be Continued . . .