"What is that?"
"What is what?"
Giselle hid an exasperated sigh, convinced that Fabio was doing it on purpose. She had asked the same question twice now and each time, he'd pretended not to hear her. The observatory was wider than she thought it was—the curved glass pane that stretched over them both was enough proof—but worse than being wide, it was impossibly 'echoey.' This meant that if Giselle cursed the arrogant King under her breath, he would surely hear her. She sighed again, slumping into the small couch.
"Are you going to ask your question, or just keep sighing like a distressed goose?" His back was to her as he studied a dog-eared, browning parchment, possibly a map. It would be so easy to throw a vase at him. Fabio seemed to bring out the worst in her so far; never had it ever crossed her mind to attack another so viciously. His back muscles tensed as he turned, his face half illuminated by the candlelight. "Well?"
