89

Princess Yeri.

I place a hand on my neck, trying to feel the self-sustained injury on my neck but it isn’t there. I am gazing at Ozar, and he reaches one hand to me. My breath comes in short, sharp bursts as I try to process what has just happened.

Without a moment's hesitation, my free hand flew through the air, landing a sharp slap across Ozar's face. His face turned slightly from the impact and I glare at him or at least for his reaction. My chest heaves with the effort of my actions and my hand I still pressed against my neck, feeling the residual warmth from where Ozar had been.

“That is for making that mad woman drag me here!” I scream.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, his voice holds a growl. What is this? He is concerned that I tried to hurt myself? I am not allowed to hurt myself but he can allow that wench do his bidding. I know Ozar, I have been studying him and to pull myself out of that interrogative situation, I did the only thing I felt he would react to. Hurting myself